


Home

by magneticdice



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 34
Words: 85,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticdice/pseuds/magneticdice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is a product of his environment, and if that were to change, so would Mickey. What if one single event had gone differently? If Mandy had never gotten Mickey to go after Ian, what would the repercussions have been? No "relationship" with Ian, no getting shot, no Juvie... This story begins at episode 3 of the first season and covers the following few years...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Real Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few thoughts before I start. This is my first ever fanfiction, so please don’t be too harsh. I’ve loved Shameless from the start and I’ve always shipped Ian and Mickey, but this season was just too full of emotions! I seriously “needed” more of the show, so I started reading any and all Gallavich fanfics I could get my hands on. Sadly, there aren’t that many multi-chapter ones out there… Solution: write my own. It gives me a reason to re-watch the show again from Season 1, for the millionth time, and also helps me justify to myself (and my husband) why I talk about Ian and Mickey 24/7. 
> 
> I’ve always thought that Mickey was a product of his environment, and that if that were to change, so would Mickey. It’s obvious that he has evolved as a character; just look at the difference between the dirty boy who tried to beat Ian up in season 1 to the actual human being at the end of season 3. He clearly changed. So in this fanfic, everything is starting from the beginning. What if one single event had gone differently? If Mandy never got Mickey to go after Ian, what would the repercussions have been? This story begins at episode 3 of the first season. 
> 
> Oh, and last thing: I hate being confused when I start reading a story, so since this one’s point of view will alternate between Mandy and Mickey, I’m going to clearly state so at the beginning of each chapter. I hope you don’t hate it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the show Shameless and I don't own the characters (just my OCs). Chapter 1 is the only one that will follow the show closely. After that, things change :)

**Chapter One**

(Mandy POV)

The first time Mandy really met Ian was at the Kash and Grab. Sure, they had been in some of the same classes in school for years, but she had never paid much attention to the redhead. She knew his family by reputation--drunk father, crazy mother, older sister who looked after the kids, smart-ass brother, and a few more brats running around.

That night, she had taken the El over and walked into the store with a purpose. She saw that Ian was on a step ladder stocking some shelves. His ass looked so perfect in his tight black jeans, so she did what any horny teen would have done and pinched his butt cheek, right there and then.

Ian laughed and said, “You know, that’s sexual harassment!” as he turned around to face her. Realizing who it was, he started to say, “Mandy—“ but Mandy cut him off.

“Hey Ian!” she practically sang, trying to put as much charm as she could into it.

“What’s going on?” Ian asked her.

“I wanted to thank you for coming to my rescue in history class today.” She was referring to what Ian had done to their pervert of a teacher, Mr. Bancroft. The teacher had been standing next to Mandy’s desk with his disgusting erection bulging through his pants, right in front of Mandy’s face. Ian had slowly slipped his backpack on the floor into Mr. Bancroft’s path. He'd tripped and fallen on his ass, cursing on the way down, much to the amusement of everyone in the class.

“No problem; Mr. Bancroft’s a prick.” Ian laughed, almost to himself, clearly not understanding just how appreciative Mandy actually felt. That disgusting teacher had been getting on her nerves all semester, and when she had turned around in her chair to see what had happened, she had felt a combination of relief and surprise upon realizing what Ian had done for her. 

Mandy decided to try a different approach. She batted her lashes at him and said, as sweetly as she could manage, “Well I think _you_ might be my knight in shining armor…” with a huge grin on her face, actually giggling in the process.

Ian still tried to shrug it off like it had been nothing. “Right…”

Mandy, still giggling, told him, “You’re funny, Ian Gallagher!” She not-so-subtly asked him what time he got off work, and Ian replied that it was inventory night, so he would be there until really late. A little bummed, but in no way deterred, Mandy told him she would see him around school the next day. Then, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and started leaving the store, but not before squeezing past him a little closer than necessary and gently trailing her fingers across his back on her way out.

Maybe she should have gone home, but she felt like she had gone all the way there and wasn’t giving up that easily. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do at home. Her brothers were probably out beating up some little punk and her dad was guaranteed to be drunk and passed out on the sofa. Instead, she walked around to the alley by the back of the store and settled in, waiting for Ian to finish work. There was still snow on the ground and she was wearing a mini skirt, as usual, so she found a spot in the back of the delivery truck, where she hoped she’d be a little warmer.

Sitting there in the truck, she started to think about her history with boys. She hadn't had the greatest track record lately. The last boy she'd dated, Danny, was only trying to get close to her in order to score some free weed. He had heard about the new strain her brother Iggy had started selling. When she had found out that he only fucked her for access to the pot, she had cried quietly in her room for the whole night, until her brother Mickey had come in and found her. He had told her that Milkoviches don't cry and demanded to know who he had to go beat up. She had told her brother everything that had happened, and he and Iggy had kicked Danny's ass so badly he had missed two weeks of school.

The guy before Danny had been a complete asshole too. Keith had been assigned to be her partner on a biology project. She had been nice to him so that he would do the bulk of the assignment for her, even letting him feel her up and make out with her during their “study dates” or whatever they were. The night before the project was due, she had gone over to his house and Keith had convinced her to blow him. Then the next day in class, he had turned in the shitty project, and when the teacher asked which parts Mandy had worked on, Keith had thrown her under the bus and said she hadn't done any of the work.

She didn't know why the guys she hooked up with ended up being such jerks, but she knew that Ian was going to be different. She could just tell from his smile. It was so genuine. It didn't look like there was a single malicious bone in his body.

Some time later, she thought she heard Ian walking by. She waited for him to pass the back of the truck and she surprised him with a loud “Boo!” She smiled when she saw that she truly did startle him. “Did you miss me?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he responded, and her heart did a little flip. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting to walk you home, silly!” she said, jumping out of the truck to lock her arm into his. They walked to Ian's house like that, arm in arm.

A half hour later, they were sitting in the Gallaghers' living room, watching some stupid monster truck show on the TV with Ian's little brother Carl. Mandy watched Ian intently, but his attention seemed to be on the program. She licked her lips and scooted closer to him, but he got up immediately and asked Mandy if she wanted another beer. She said okay, so he went into the kitchen. While he was gone, Mandy got Carl to leave.

When Ian returned, he passed Mandy the beer and sat down at the edge of the sofa. She could tell Ian was nervous, and wanted to show him that he didn't have to be. She bit her lip and made up her mind. She suddenly straddled Ian and started trying to make out with him.

“Mandy! Mandy... maybe we should...” Ian started to say, as he gently tried to push her away.

Mandy grinned at him and said, “Don't worry. I have one,” as she pulled out a bright yellow condom from her bra. She'd known this was what she wanted from the moment she stepped foot into the Kash and Grab, and she had come prepared. She unzipped his fly and started trying to get things started.

Ian was breathing heavily but he managed to spit out a few words. “Mandy. Please, stop. Can we _please_ just talk for a second?”

She pushed away from him and took a look at his face. He looked panicked. She suddenly had a strange thought. “Ian Gallagher, are you a virgin?” she asked him, although he was 15 too, so she didn't see how that would be possible.

Ian laughed out loud all of a sudden and said, “Yeah right!” but then his expression suddenly twisted and he looked at her guiltily. “Well, technically yes,” he amended.

Mandy was really confused. She got off of Ian's lap and sat back down on the couch beside him. She turned so that she was facing him, but he wasn't looking at her. She slowly reached out an arm and put her hand on his cheek, turning his face towards hers. “What do you mean by technically?” she whispered.

Ian started to blush from her intense gaze, so she put on a slight smile to make him feel more comfortable. “Mandy... I don't want you to think this is about you. Believe me, it has nothing to do with you. I haven't told this to anyone. I didn't even tell Lip—he just sort of found out,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He took a deep breath and continued, “The reason I don't want to do this... is because I'm gay.” He cringed as he said the last part, as if waiting for her reaction.

Mandy was shocked, sure, but more because of the fact that he was telling her this, not because of _what_ he told her. She was surprised that he actually trusted her enough to tell. In their neighborhood, being gay would get you killed. Hell, her brothers would probably be the ones to do it. Instead of getting upset, Mandy thought about how important this moment was for Ian. He was confiding in her and she honestly believed him.

Mandy realized her hand was still on Ian's cheek, so she put her other one onto the opposite side. Cupping his face, she slowly exhaled and said, “Ian. You don't need to worry. I'm not going to tell anybody.” She watched as Ian visibly relaxed. He gave her a shy smile as he realized that he really could trust her. The smile made her insides melt. He was just so adorable.

“How long have you known?” she wanted to know.

“I don't know... My whole life, I guess?” he replied.

“Are you _sure_ that you're not just making this up?” she asked him.

As if mirroring her earlier thoughts, Ian said, “In this neighborhood? Why would I make that up?” He took a deep breath, waiting for her answer.

Mandy shrugged. “I just thought you were lying so that I wouldn't get upset. Maybe you think I'm ugly or something...” she said, being honest for once. She had never been this honest with a boy before, but she just had a feeling she could tell Ian the truth.

Ian's eyes opened wide and he looked at her like she had suddenly grown another head. “Mandy, you're beautiful! This has nothing to do with the way you look,” he told her. “I'm just not wired that way.” Nobody had ever called her beautiful before, not even her own parents.  Sure, some of the guys she had hooked up with in the past had complimented her and told her how fucking hot she is, but this was definitely different.

To her surprise, Ian suddenly put his hand on Mandy's breast and then used his other hand to put hers on his crotch. He waited, looking at her expectantly. She realized he was trying to prove to her that he was not aroused. “See? Nothing,” he said. She laughed a little. 

She moved her hand away and leaned back in the couch, still laughing. She reached for her beer and took a sip. Ian's eyes met hers again and he laughed too. The atmosphere in the room had definitely changed. They went back to watching TV. A few minutes later, Mandy turned to Ian again. “If you want, I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff. Then no one would give you a hard time.”

Ian looked at her, startled. “You'd do that for me?” he wondered quietly.

Mandy shrugged. “Sure, it would keep the creepy guys away from me. Besides, I've never actually had a real boyfriend before. Well, not that you'd be a real boyfriend, but a boyfriend I could _do_ things with. Instead of, you know, getting finger-banged all the time.” She grabbed his hand and their fingers intertwined.

Just then, Ian's sister Fiona walked into the house. They both turned back and looked at her. She stopped when she saw them sitting on the couch. Much to Mandy's pleasure, Ian said, “Hey Fiona, this is my girlfriend Mandy.” He smiled his adorable smile at Mandy and turned back to watch the TV, hands still locked together. Mandy had never been so happy before.


	2. Friends

**Chapter Two**

(Mandy POV)

The rest of Mandy's sophomore year was a dream. Ian met her in front of her house every morning and they walked to school together. They would have lunch together in the cafeteria and it was like they were in their own little bubble. The best part was that Ian actually treated her like she was his girlfriend. He would call her at night just to tell her about what had happened since they last saw each other, even if it had only been a few hours. He would tell her all about his family, his siblings and the crazy things that happened to them. The one story that stood out the most was his dad Frank's recent unplanned trip to Canada. Mandy would tell Ian about her life too. 

It was obvious to Mandy that she had a big crush on Ian. Everything he did made her melt. One day when they were hanging out at her house, she decided to talk to him about something she had been avoiding since that night he first came out to her, almost three months ago. “Ian, can I ask you something?” she said, tentatively.

Ian smiled genuinely at her and almost shrugged. “Yeah, Mands, what's up?”

Mandy didn't know what was the most tactful way to start, so she just started. Tact was never a trait a Milkovich could boast about having. “Remember when I asked you if you were a virgin and you said you weren't really? What did you mean? Have you hooked up with guys before?”

Ian froze. “Umm... Do you really want me to answer you?”

Mandy laughed nervously and said, “I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't ready for the answer...”

Ian took a deep breath. “Well, there was this kid at school... You remember Roger Spikey? They called him 'donkey dick'--that wasn't a rumor. He was my first.”

Mandy's was shocked. Roger Spikey had graduated last year. He'd been on the football team and had  been really hot. She remembered hearing his nickname once and laughing about it with her brothers. None of them had ever been into sports so she hadn't bothered asking them if there was any validity to the rumor. Mandy pictured Roger in her head: he'd been taller than Ian and very built. He was always tan from the hours of shirtless football practice, and she remembered that all the girls in her class would constantly say how badly they wanted to hook up with him after their school's team won a game. Thinking about it now, though, she couldn't remember anyone _actually_ saying that they _had_ hooked up with him.

Mandy smirked. Roger Spikey had been the epitome of masculinity. He was the definition of “jock.” Finding out now that he was gay was almost comical. “Okay, so he was your first. Was there anyone else?”

“Yeah, one,” Ian said. “So, what do you want to eat tonight?”

“Ian Gallagher!” Mandy screamed. “Don't you dare try to change the subject! Who else?” she demanded.

Ian looked at her guiltily before answering, “Kash.” She could see he was starting to blush. When Mandy's eyes opened wide with surprise, Ian continued. “We've sort of been hooking up for a while now. Mostly in the back room or the freezer of the Kash and Grab.”

Mandy didn't say anything else. She didn't tell Ian that it was wrong that Kash was married, because it didn't really seem important to her. She didn't judge him for being with an older guy. She wasn't even offended by the fact that he had kept it a secret from her. She understood that it wasn't really his secret to tell, and that it was hard to find anyone you could fuck and trust to keep their mouth shut about it in this neighborhood. So she did the only thing she could think of to make Ian understand that she didn't give a shit about him and Kash. She leaned her head on his shoulder and raised the volume on the TV.

If they had been close before, after that day, they became inseparable. Mandy could actually feel the difference in how much more comfortable Ian was around her now that he could be 100% honest with her, and she loved it. She even got over the pang of jealousy she would feel every time Ian mentioned something about he and Kash. Eventually... It would hurt her a little less each time.

One afternoon a couple of weeks later, Mandy was getting dressed to go meet Ian at the store when she bumped into her brother Mickey while rushing out of the bathroom. Sometimes she felt a little bad that the sole bathroom in the house was only accessible _through_ Mickey's bedroom. “Got any plans today, ass-face?” she asked him.

Mickey was Mandy's favorite brother. He'd always been there to protect her when their dad got too drunk and angry. They were also the siblings who were the closest in age, and Mickey was the only Milkovich besides herself who hadn't been in Juvie or gone to prison yet.

“Just gotta pick up some money from this punk who owes me for some coke. I guess it can wait a while. Why? What's up?” he asked her.

“Ian and I are sneaking into a movie tonight,” Mandy explained. “Why don't you come?” Mickey shrugged, then grabbed his jacket off the bed. She took that as a yes and smiled at him as she put on her own coat.

They met Ian at the store just as he was locking up. “Mickey's gonna join us today. Hope you don't mind,” Mandy said. Ian grinned and told her of course he didn't. They walked to the back of the theater, knocked on the door of one of the emergency exits, and were met by a kid from school. Ian gave him the English essay that Lip had written for him, and he let them in for free in exchange for it. They sat together in the back row. While waiting for the movie to start, Mandy went and bought them a huge tub of popcorn. When she got back, she sat back down between the boys and they ate and laughed despite the fact that it was a horror movie.

Mickey was the one to start throwing popcorn, aiming for a couple a few rows in front of them. Mandy guessed it was because the girl was constantly gasping and clutching her date in fear. Mickey had always hated signs of affection and the idea of cuddling, and she assumed that this hugging fell into the same category. She took a few pieces and joined her brother. Next thing she knew, all three of them were giggling and throwing popcorn at practically anyone and everyone, until the tub was empty. They left the theater laughing and talking about the other peoples' faces when what Ian was now calling the “popcorn blizzard” had started.

After that night, Mickey had basically become a regular addition to their duo. The three of them always spent time together. Mandy made sure to always invite him to chill with them. She was glad Ian didn't mind. She noticed that Mickey had started spending less time with their other brothers, and she thought that was a good thing. Mandy didn't want her brother to end up like the others. They were a bad influence on him.

Mickey came home one Saturday afternoon with a new Xbox. Mandy didn't ask him where he'd gotten it from, because she really didn't want to know. While he was busy connecting it to the TV, Mandy called Ian and invited him over, telling him to bring some beer on his way. They took turns playing because Mickey only had two controllers. They drank beer and ate pizza bagels that Mandy heated up. Mickey pulled out a joint and lit it up, taking a few hits for himself before passing it over to Ian, who muttered his thanks. They spent the rest of the day like that, slightly buzzed and just chilling out.

At the end of their sophomore year, Ian told Mandy he wanted to celebrate the start of summer by taking her to a baseball game. She smirked at him because she knew he wouldn't actually _buy_ tickets to a game; that wasn't their style. Just as she'd expected, Ian led her and Mickey through a back door and into Cellular Field, or as everyone called it, “the Cell.”

The White Sox were playing against the Cleveland Indians. Mandy had no real interest in baseball but was happy to be there nevertheless. They found a spot in a section that was relatively empty, all the way up in one of the Upper Corners. It was a really hot day and Mandy was regretting not wearing a hat like Ian had told her to. She hadn't wanted to mess up her hair.

“It's hot as balls today,” Mickey said, stating the obvious as he spit onto the ground.

They idly watched the game for a while before Ian broke the silence. “You know, being here reminds me of when the little league commissioner kicked Mickey off the baseball team for pissing on first base.”

Mandy hadn't heard about this story. She had never gone to any of Mickey's games when they were little because their mom had still been alive at the time. Back then, she had actually taken care of Mandy, who had been “her little princess”, but she hadn't given a crap about Mickey or any of the other boys.

“You heard about that?” Mickey asked Ian, surprised. That snapped Mandy back from thinking about their mother.

Ian laughed as he shoved Mickey's shoulder. “I was playing second!” he exclaimed.

The Sox won the game 3 to 1. Mandy hugged Ian afterwards and told him that he was right--this was the perfect way to kick off the summer vacation.


	3. Revelations

**Chapter Three**

(Mickey POV)

The light started peeking in through the windows of his room and Mickey put a pillow over his head with a grunt to try to get just a few more minutes of sleep. He was still asleep in his bed hours later when his phone chimed on the table beside him. He grabbed it angrily, flipped it open and saw a text from Mandy reminding him that she was at the pool today and they were out of milk. Mickey slammed the phone shut and tossed it back onto the table. Like he gave a shit about the fucking milk!

Mickey was about to turn over and try to go back to sleep when he cringed as he noticed the throbbing hard-on he had. He was used to getting morning wood but this was ridiculous. Mickey knew it was because he had been stressed for weeks and that stress was starting to take a toll on him. He'd been spending all his free time with his sister and her boyfriend, which meant less time with his idiotic brothers and consequently less time fighting with and terrorizing people for no better reason than boredom. The fighting was a release though, and the need to punch someone had been building inside of Mickey.

He listened quietly for a minute, but couldn't hear anyone moving nearby or in the living room. Mickey pulled his boxers down and started masturbating slowly. The last time Mickey had gotten laid had been about a month ago but it felt like years to a teenager. Especially one who'd been having sex since age 13. Mickey didn't really know why he hadn't felt like fucking anyone lately. He'd had plenty of chances. In fact, just the previous day, Mickey had been walking past Angie Zago's house and seen her sitting on the porch. She'd called out to him with a proposition but he had just shaken his head and continued walking to meet up with Mandy and Gallagher at the Sox game. 

Still stroking himself, Mickey starting thinking about the first time he'd had sex. He'd just started middle school and some girl named Jenny from his class had slipped him a note during Social Studies, asking if he wanted to meet her in the eraser room after school. He had turned to look at her and given her a nod, and she had blushed. At the end of the day, he had been inside the small, dusty room, chewing on the skin on the side of his thumb and nervously waiting for her. Jenny had come in, shut the door behind her and gotten down on her knees in front of him without even saying a word. She hadn't even tried to kiss him. She'd just unzipped his pants and started expertly sucking on his dick. Eyes shut tightly, Mickey had been about to moan when Jenny had unexpectedly stopped and looked up at him. She asked him if he wanted to have sex and he had nodded. She'd expertly rolled a condom onto him and he'd pinned her against the wall, lifting her leg to get a better angle. Chalk had been billowing around them as he'd thrusted. He hadn't lasted long, but his brothers had told him enough about their sexual escapades that he hadn't really expected to. He'd known that would change as he got older so he hadn't worried about it. Thinking about the day he got his first blowjob and lost his virginity all at once always made him smirk.

Just as he was about to come, the door to his room abruptly opened and his father walked right past him and into the bathroom. Mickey froze and pulled the bed sheet over himself, moment ruined. He waited for Terry to flush and walk out, not even acknowledging Mickey as he walked back to the living room. Mickey cursed under his breath as he wished for the millionth time that his room wasn't the only way to the fucking bathroom. Who had fucking designed this house anyway?

Frustrated at not being able to finish, Mickey got up and walked out to the kitchen, deciding to have some cereal, only to remember the text from Mandy telling him they were out of milk. Pissed off beyond words, Mickey got dressed in the cleanest clothes he found on his floor, grabbed his cell phone and walked out. He took the El to the Kash and Grab, deciding to get some milk and visit Gallagher in the process. As usual, he had nothing better to do with his day.

When he walked into the store, Ian was sitting on a stool behind the register, looking bored as ever as he mindlessly flipped through a magazine. Ian smiled at him and Mickey could feel his bad mood lifting slightly. “What's good, Firecrotch?” Mickey asked. He saw Ian's smile twist into a look of confusion as Gallagher thought about what Mickey called him. 

“Firecrotch? Where'd you get that from?” Ian wondered aloud.

“Well, I'd have to check with Mandy to confirm, but I'm guessing the curtains match the drapes,” Mickey teased. He actually smirked when understanding dawned on Ian's face and the boy's cheeks started to turn as scarlet as his hair. 

Clearly trying to change the subject, Ian asked, “So, how was your night? The game yesterday was fun, right? I'm glad the Sox won.”

Mickey leaned against the counter and started talking to Ian. Well, truth be told, Mickey didn't really do much of the talking, but they managed to have a conversation nevertheless. It was always like this with Gallagher. He would talk and talk and Mickey wouldn't get bored. It was... easy. 

Mickey walked back to his house from the El, milk carton in hand, feeling much more relaxed than he had felt earlier in the morning. Gallagher had that effect on him. As he opened the front door, he heard the TV on in the living room. It seemed like Terry was still there. Mickey took in the scene before him as he entered. His father was lying on the couch in nothing but boxers, one hand scratching his belly and the other holding a beer to his lips. Mickey could see the crushed cans and cigarette butts littering the ground around him. Walking to the kitchen, Mickey tried not to breath in the stench of whatever his father was “cooking” in a large pot on the stove. It was starting to bubble over and Mickey new whatever cheap drug his father was trying to manufacture wouldn't end well. He grabbed himself the bowl of cereal he'd wanted earlier that morning, poured the new milk into it, left the carton in the fridge and retreated into his room.

It was early on a hot August morning when Mickey woke up to a rare sound in the Milkovich house. Mandy was crying in the bathroom. He heard her trying to hide her sobs but he knew his sister well enough to be able to tell when something was really upsetting her. For her to be crying, it had to have been major. He got up out of bed and slowly made his way towards the bathroom. Leaning against the wall, he knocked lightly against the closed door. He heard her suddenly stop moving. 

“I know you're in there and I know you're upset. Just cut the shit and tell me who I need to fuck up so that I can get back to sleep.”

Mickey heard the door's lock click open. He put his hand on the knob and slowly pushed the door open. Mandy was sitting on the floor in the corner, tears streaming down her face. She had obviously been in there for a while. He could see the streaks of black eyeliner on her cheeks. When she looked up at Mickey, he felt his heart sink. Something was wrong and he would do anything to fix it. His little sister was his only family—the only one who counted. Her voice shook as she slowly whispered, “I'm pregnant.”

Mickey didn't hesitate. He was out the door as fast as he could get clothes and a pair of shoes on. Mandy was calling out to him but he couldn't hear anything she was saying. The anger he felt was overwhelming. He could feel his heart pounding in his head and if he had been a cartoon, he was sure a smoke would be slowly streaming out of his ears. He made his way to Gallagher's house and walked in through the back door without knocking. The family was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast together. He made eye contact with the redhead and motioned for him to get his ass outside. Ian, looking confused, got up and followed Mickey out.

“Hey Mickey, what's--,” he began, but before he had time to finish his query, Mickey's fist had connected with Ian's face with such force that he was knocked onto his back. Mickey got down on his knees, straddling Ian as he punched him again on the other side of his face. Ian didn't scream for help despite his siblings being less than 15 feet away. 

“Mickey, stop. What's wrong?” Ian tried to move but Mickey was still pinning him down. Not having any way to get out from under him, Ian grabbed at Mickey's fist as it began its arch towards his face again. “Mickey!” Ian pleaded. “What happened?”

“You know what the fuck happened!” Mickey shouted. “You knocked up my sister, Gallagher, and now you're gonna fucking pay for it!”

Mickey saw the shock register on Ian's face. “I didn't, Mickey!” Ian said. “I swear, I didn't!” Mickey punched Ian again, this time in his jaw, and felt his knuckles get cut on Gallagher's teeth. Blood splattered all over Ian's face and Ian spat to the side. “Mick... I swear to you, I didn't. It wasn't me. Please...”

He sounded so pitiful. So desperate to have Mickey believe him. Fist in the air, Mickey looked down at the redhead, helplessly lying under him, and he hesitated. Mickey was panting, anger consuming him, so why had he stopped? Maybe it was the fact that Gallagher had been the closest thing to a friend Mickey had had in a while. Maybe it was the way Ian was looking up at Mickey, straight in the eye, when a sane person would have been cowering. Mickey looked into Ian's green eyes and he felt helpless too. He knew he believed the redhead. He didn't know why, but he believed him. The anger started seeping away; it was replaced by a wave of calm that Mickey knew Gallagher was the cause of. He took in a deep breath and as the rage drained out of him, he felt his dick twitch where it was pressed against Ian. Ian's eyes widened.

Just then the back door burst open. The Gallaghers must have finally heard the commotion in the backyard. The family piled into the doorway and Lip stumbled through them to help his brother. Ian heard them but didn't stop staring at Mickey. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Lip screamed. “Get the fuck off of him!”

“It's fine, Lip. I'm fine,” Ian said without looking away.

Lip let out a nervous laugh. “Ian, you're fucking covered in blood. What the hell do you mean, 'you're fine'?”

Ian finally broke his stare with Mickey and turned to look at his brother. “It's nothing. I'm fine,” he assured Lip. “Just a misunderstanding,” he explained. Mickey realized he had lowered the hand he'd had poised in the air and loosened his grip on Ian's shirt which was bunched up in his other hand. He started to rise, moving languidly off of Ian, turning to face Lip once Mickey was upright. 

“Mickey...!” Mandy called. He whipped his head towards her and saw that she was out of breath, clearly having run after him, tears still staining her face. He didn't look back at the Gallaghers. He just walked towards Mandy, put his arm around her, and they turned and walked back home.

They got inside and Mandy led him to his bed. She pushed him down gently and told him to wait right there. She went into the bathroom and came back out with a wet towel. She sat cross-legged on his bed, facing him, and gently wiped the blood off his knuckles. When Mickey winced, Mandy hit him behind the head. “Don't be such a fucking pussy. This is your fault. Didn't you hear me yelling after you?”

Mickey shook his head slowly. He thought about the last time he'd seen Mandy crying like that. She'd confessed to him that the boy she'd been seeing, Danny, had used her, and Mickey had immediately wanted to protect his baby sister--to take her pain away and make things right. He was feeling the same in this moment. 

Mickey looked at Mandy, and all he could say was, “Explain.” 

“Ian and I've never had sex,” Mandy spit out. She laughed. Mickey looked up at her skeptically.

“You mean to tell me the kid you've been dating for months now, the kid that calls you every night to talk about nothing at all, spends all his free time here, takes you out... The boy who worships the ground you walk on... You expect me to believe that the two of you have never fucked?” 

Mandy's expression changed to a rueful one as she shook her head. “No. We haven't.”

Mickey scowled. “Then how the fuck are you pregnant. You're not the Virgin fucking Mary.” 

A tiny smile played on Mandy's lips, but there was sadness in her eyes. She took a shuddering breath. “It was dad...”

Mickey felt like he'd been the one punched in the face, not Gallagher. “The fuck?”

“He was drunk. I look too much like mom. He came into the bed at night and covered my mouth. He didn't even remember it the next morning.”

So many thoughts ran through Mickey's head at the same time. He didn't know what to do, so he just put his arm on her shoulder and promised her he would fix it. Mandy looked up at her brother, eyes brimming with tears, and nodded. “I know you will, Mickey. I trust you.”

The next morning, Mickey went with Mandy to the Planned Parenthood clinic. He used all his “savings”, if the barely $400 he had managed to keep in one of the socks in his drawer even counted. He stayed with her while she filled out all of the paperwork and sat in the waiting room until they told him he could take her home hours later. They told Mickey that Mandy would be very groggy for the rest of the day as the anesthesia wore off, so he took her home and stayed in her room with her, holding her hand as she cried herself to sleep.

He made the decision to leave with Mandy. As he sat beside her, cigarette burning down in his hand, he knew it was what he had to do to protect her. He couldn't fight their dad. The countless years of Mickey getting smacked around by a drunk Terry were evidence of that. He knew Terry would kill him if he even tried to fight back. His brothers were fuck-ups and wouldn't be able to help either. There was no other choice. 

Mickey's eyelids began to droop and he started thinking about his _encounter_ \--for lack of a better word--with Gallagher the prior day. Neither he nor Mandy had seen or talked to the redhead since. Mickey recalled the feeling of being on top of Gallagher, having Ian squirm between his thighs, struggling to get free... He remembered feeling the pressure of his rapidly growing erection as Gallagher looked at him right in the eyes, begging him to believe him. Mickey thought about how his chest had felt when he'd lowered his fist and the redhead had looked back at him with relief and something else... understanding. Calling that moment to mind, Mickey started to panic. He was breathing in short, rapid breaths. Could Ian tell? Could he see it in Mickey's eyes?

Mickey had been scared shitless. He was still scared. What the fuck had that been? He considered Gallagher a friend—maybe his only friend besides Mandy, who didn't count because she was family. Ian was easy to hang out with and he had a calming effect on Mickey. He would always make him feel relaxed. Even doing stupid shit like sitting on the couch and playing video games. Mickey had made sure to grab Call of Duty when stealing the damned Xbox because he knew the redhead would like the game.

Mickey shook his head and grunted, pushing the memory of the fight as far from his mind as he could manage. It didn't matter now. They were going to leave Chicago. He would keep Mandy safe and as far from Terry as possible. He would forget about Ian.

Mickey leaned back against Mandy's bed, still holding her hand, and closed his eyes.  


	4. A New Start

**Chapter Four**

(Mickey POV)

Deciding to leave had been the easy part. Figuring out how to do it was a little trickier. For starters, Mickey was 17 and broke. He'd told Mandy to slowly start getting her important shit packed as inconspicuously as possible, because he wasn't sure when they'd be going, but he knew there wouldn't be much time to think once the moment came. 

Once the idea to pawn Terry's guns came to him, Mickey had laughed at how simple it was. The solution had been staring him in the face the whole time. Their house was a forensics team's wet dream. He told Mandy to be ready and they both waited for their dad to leave the house. When Terry left to go God-knows-where, they were out the door with the guns in a giant duffel bag and their backpacks full of their shit in less than 5 minutes. They didn't even think twice about taking Terry's car. The old, beige, 1970s Chevy Impala barely had any gas in it, but it would get them far enough to be able to breath.

Mickey got about three grand from selling all but one of the guns, saving a small revolver for himself in case of an emergency. He probably could have gotten more if he hadn't been in such a rush. He'd tried to hide his desperation as best as he could but they'd obviously been able to pick up on it and had taken advantage of the fact. Whatever. He would have done the same. Mandy was waiting in the car for him. They had enough to get away. They got a full tank of gas and drove east on the I-90 through the night without speaking a single word.

They'd been driving for about 5 hours when they stopped at a rest area near Cleveland, Ohio. They parked and walked in, thankful that the McDonald's was open 24/7. They sat on the shitty plastic chairs in the rest area once they had ordered like $20 of food off the Dollar Menu. Mickey was scarfing down a McChicken sandwich when Mandy finally broke their silence by letting out a small laugh. Mickey looked up at her with a mouthful of chicken and raised an eyebrow. 

“Jeez Mickey, didn't anyone ever tell you to chew?” she asked him, chuckling to herself.

He chewed and swallowed the bite in his mouth and glared at her. Without warning, a giggle escaped from him. An actual fucking giggle. They looked at each other, cracking up, because they both knew the answer to Mandy's question. No, nobody had told him to chew. Nobody had cared. They laughed for a long time. Mickey grinned and threw a french fry at Mandy, hitting her square on the forehead. When silence had settled in again, Mickey took a deep breath and decided they had to talk about where they were going.

“So, any idea where we should go?” he asked his sister. 

She shrugged and looked back at him thoughtfully. “What about New York?” she mused. “Mom always said she loved it there...”

Mickey had been thinking about NY too. “Was that before or after she became a fucking crack addict?” he snarled. He shook his head. “I think we should stay away from main cities.” He didn't have to explain why. They both knew it would be easier to hide from Terry if they avoided them. “What about something _close_ to NY?”

Mandy got up and walked over to the huge map on the wall of the rest area. Mickey could see her scanning the NYC area. “What about Queens?” she asked. “It has a nice ring to it and it's pretty close.”

Mickey got up and walked over to the map too, nodding. “Kay. We can find a paper or some shit when we get closer and look for a place.” Mickey noted which highways he'd have to take. “Let's fine a motel. I don't think I can keep my eyes open for much longer.”

They topped off the gas tank before leaving the rest area. At the next actual highway exit, they found a Knights' Inn and coughed up the $40 for a night for the dingy motel. The carpet was disgusting but the two twin mattresses looked half decent. “Let's try to get as much sleep as possible tonight so we can just drive straight through the day tomorrow.”

“Fine with me...” Mandy agreed. 

The next afternoon, they hit the road and drove the remaining 8 hours to Queens. The time seemed to fly by now that they had a destination in mind. They parked in the lot of the first diner they saw, not having eaten since the rest area the night before. Sitting in booth in the corner, they both ordered burgers and asked the waitress, whose name tag read “Liz”, if she had a local paper. Not in the mood to socialize, the waitress motioned towards a magazine rack near the restrooms. Mandy walked over and picked up a magazine for herself and a local paper for Mickey. While waiting for their food, they flipped through the pages of their respective literature. 

The neighborhood they were in was called College Point. Mickey scanned through the listings and circled a few that fit their budget. He and Mandy used the payphone in the diner to call some of the listings and made appointments to see a few of them the following day, as it was already too late in the evening. They ended up spending three hours sitting in the diner before accepting the fact that they would need to find a place to sleep for the night. They asked the waitress if she knew any cheap motels close by, drove to the Comfort Inn she had recommended, and slept until their first appointment the following morning.

Parking in front of the fourth apartment of the day, Mickey felt a bit apprehensive. The first apartment they had visited had been absolute shit—dirtier than their own house back in Chicago. The second had looked decent enough, but was completely out of their price range because the owner had asked for a deposit of the first and last month's rent, in addition to a security deposit and requiring a one-year lease. When Mickey had waved the paper in the the man's face, saying he should have fucking written that in the paper, Mandy had quickly shoved Mickey out of the apartment before he lost his temper even more. The third apartment had looked decent as well, but the owner had asked for Mickey's ID to run a background check. Therein lay the problem: despite the fact that Mickey had thought ahead enough to grab his brother Iggy's ID before leaving, he knew he wasn't going to pass any sort of background check; Iggy was currently in jail for possession with intent to sell. So this appointment was their last shot for the day, or Mickey would have to shell out another night's motel fees.

Mandy rang the bell and they waited until a short, little, Italian lady opened the door. “Hi, we're here about the apartment for rent,” Mandy explained. 

Mickey could see a small landing behind the lady, like a tiny foyer. The door to what was clearly her apartment was open and he could see into her living room. There were small porcelain dolls on every single surface. She clearly was a collector. Mickey shuddered; the dolls really creeped him out.

“Oh, yes. Come in, come in,” she said, as she gestured towards the space behind her. “My name is Mrs. Lombardi. And who are you?” she asked them as they shuffled inside.

“I'm Mandy Milkovich and this is my brother Mickey.”

“How nice to meet you! Well, let me show you the apartment. I live on the first floor with Charlie and I like to rent the second floor for a little extra spending money.” She smiled.

“Is Charlie your husband?” Mandy wondered.

“No silly, Tony died years ago. Charlie is my cat!” She chuckled. “Come, let's take a look at the apartment upstairs.” They followed her up the stairs. Mickey had to hold in a groan. Mrs. Lombardi was walking at a snail's pace, one step at a time. She unlocked the upstairs door with a key from the chain around her neck. “If I don't wear the keys, I always lose them...” she explained.

Mickey's initial opinion of the apartment was that it wasn't anything special. The front door opened into a long hallway, with a door on each side and one at the end. There was no living room or dining room; just three bedrooms. It was obvious that the top floor of the house had at some point been converted into a separate apartment. Mickey wondered if it was even legal. 

The doors on the left and right were decently sized bedrooms. The carpets looked like they had just been cleaned and the walls had been freshly painted. One of the rooms even had a closet. The door at the end of the hallway led to the “kitchen”. It had clearly been the master bedroom, as it was the largest of the rooms upstairs and had a bathroom. The kitchen had all the essentials: fridge, stove, microwave, even a dishwasher. There was enough space in the room for a table and possibly a couch, if they found one small enough.

Mickey looked at Mandy and saw her silently mouth _“I want it!”_

“What's included in the rent?” Mickey asked Mrs. Lombardi.

“It's $800 a month. The heat, water and electricity are included. I'll need a $1,000 security deposit, but you can have that back when you leave, if there's nothing damaged. The last tenant took the AC units, though. I'm so sorry. I know it's a hot summer. You can always buy some fans...”

“Sounds good,” Mickey said. “What's the earliest we can move in?”

“As early as you want to. It's empty now, as you can see. Rent is due on the first of the month, but if you two are serious about wanting the apartment, we can just pretend it's already August 1st and I won't charge you for these next 5 days...”

She was being _nice_ , even though she didn't know them or anything. It threw Mickey off a bit, but he recovered quickly. He took out the cash from his back pocket and counted out $1,800, which he handed to Mrs. Lombardi.  “You've got a deal.” He was so relieved she hadn't asked for ID 

She tucked the money into the pocket of her skirt and proceeded to take two keys off the chain around her neck. “This one here opens the downstairs door, and this gold one is for the upstairs,” she explained. “I'm sure you can get a copy made for your sister at a hardware store. There are plenty nearby. I'm right downstairs if you need anything. Feel free to knock.” And with that, she turned and walked back downstairs, closing the door behind her.

Mickey took a look around the kitchen one more time. He walked over to the window and cracked in open, then lit a cigarette and sat down on the floor. Mandy plopped down next to him. “There are some things we need to talk about,” he told his sister. “First off, I'm assuming you want the room with the closet?” He took her grin as a yes. “Well, that was the easy one. After gas, tolls, hotels, food, and now rent, we have about $850 left. We're gonna need furniture first and foremost. We should probably find an IKEA or something...”

“How about Craigslist?” Mandy asked. “We can go to a library and use the computers.”

“Sounds good. We can ditch the Impala after we pick up all the crap. But we're _both_ gonna need jobs soon and we'll have to enroll you in high school. I'm guessing the term starts at the end of August, so that gives us a month. I need you to help me bank as much as you can because once you start class, you'll have to cut your hours.” He let her process the information and took another deep puff of his cigarette before making the most important point. “Finally, destroy your SIM card. We'll get new ones tomorrow. Don't call home or anyone else in Chicago. I don't know if he's already looking for us or not, but let's not make it any easier for him.” Mandy nodded, not needing to be warned twice about how important staying under the radar would be to avoid Terry, especially now that they'd stolen his guns and his car...

They ended up finding everything they needed off of Craigslist for around $400. It was actually pretty amazing. Some people were even willing to give their things away for free as long as Mickey removed the items from their homes. They found a sturdy table for the kitchen, 3 mismatched chairs, 2 wire bed frames, and 2 mattresses in decent condition, sans any visible bedbugs. They even found a small futon for the kitchen. Mickey figured they could hold off on buying dressers until they accumulated some more clothing, having only brought what they absolutely needed from home.

The next step was figuring out what to do about the school situation. After talking to Mrs. Lombardi, they went to Flushing High School which was the school their apartment was zoned for. It was clear that nobody working in the office during the summer actually gave a crap about their job. They didn't ask for a transcript nor for proof that the Milkoviches actually lived at the address they gave. The lady told Mandy they would mail her a schedule and would see her in a month.

They took the bus back home since they had gotten rid of the Impala the previous day. The guy at the scrap yard hadn't asked any questions about why they were getting rid of it. He'd just looked under the engine, weighed the car and given Mickey 500 bucks.

They found a supermarket and loaded up on food. With the fridge stocked and Mandy reading one of those tabloids she had recently become addicted to reading, Mickey had gone out to explore the neighborhood. He stopped at the deli down the block to buy more cigarettes. He really needed a job. Standing outside the deli and smoking, he looked around and saw a bar a few blocks away. He started walking closer and saw the name “Sullivan's” written across the doorway. 

Mickey walked in and took a seat at one of the stools at the bar. The bartender was a big, heavy-set guy with short, dark brown hair and piercings in his lip and eyebrow. He looked at Mickey with a strange expression on his face. 

“I'll have a beer,” Mickey said. “Whatever you have on tap.”

“I gotta see some ID,” the bartender said. Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, Mickey pulled out Iggy's ID card and handed it over. “Illinois?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. The bartender smirked and gave the card back to Mickey. He then walked over to the tap, poured a pilsner of Coors Light and shoved it across the table to where Mickey was sitting.

After another refill, Mickey motioned the bartender over. “So, uh... Are you guys hiring here?” Mickey asked.

The bartender looked Mickey up and down and said, “How old are you really? Gotta be at least 18 to serve alcohol in NY. I'll accept your bullshit ID to serve you a beer, but we both know that ain't you, and my dad wouldn't allow me to hire you without legit paperwork.”

Mickey bit the corner of his lower lip with his teeth. “I'll be 18 next March...”

The bartender sighed. “No can do... I really can't hire you to tend bar until you're 18. We could use a bar-back though, especially on the weekends.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Carry boxes of alcohol up from the store room, stock the shelves, get ice, connect the taps, etc. Not the most exciting job, but it does get busy on Friday and Saturday nights. I know the hours aren't that great and it's minimum wage, but if you stick around, we can talk about you bartending next March. The name's Brian, by the way. Brian Sullivan. You?”

“Mickey.” They shook hands and Mickey left the bar shortly afterward with a part-time job, however, the hours weren't enough for them to be able to afford the apartment. Mickey knew he would need another job. He walked back home and told Mandy the news.

She said they should go to the diner to celebrate. Mickey was a bit annoyed since they had _just_ gone grocery shopping, but Mandy managed to convince him. They walked to the diner they'd stopped at their first night in Queens. They grabbed the same booth and were greeted by the same waitress, Liz. 

After ordering dinner, Mickey noticed a “now hiring” sign in the window. When Liz brought over their orders, Mickey asked her what positions they had open. A brief interview later, they both had new jobs: Mandy as a waitress in the afternoons and on the weekends and Mickey as a cook in the kitchen during the day.

During the month of August, they both worked their asses off. It was easy, mindless work for Mickey, since the diner didn't ever get that busy. Mickey typically finished his shift about an hour before Mandy started hers, so they fell into the habit of sitting together at the diner every afternoon and having lunch together. New York seemed to be treating them well so far.


	5. Lighter

**Chapter 5**

(Mandy POV)

Mandy started class at the end of August. It was her junior year and the schedule that had been sent to the apartment for her was full of simple, basic classes, so she didn't mind. Her last period was gym. On the first day of class, she'd had to cough up $20 for a gym uniform and a lock. Taking the shorts and T-shirt down to the locker room, she was told to pick any locker to leave her backpack and regular clothes in, but that she would have to take the lock and the clothes back home every day, as there weren't enough lockers for everyone to keep one. As Mandy walked past the other girls already changing, she saw a row of empty lockers in the back corner of the room and put her bag into one of them. 

“Get the fuck away from my locker!” someone shouted at her.

“I didn't know they were assigned,” Mandy said. She thought it was more of a first-come-first-served kind of deal. 

“They aren't. But this one's mine.” The girl walked to the locker, picked up Mandy's backpack, and tossed it onto the floor. The bag's contents clattered onto the floor. The girl threw her own bag into the locker, slammed her lock onto it, and made her way into the gym, already having her torn, worn-out gym uniform on. 

Mandy was stunned but she didn't have any time to react. Most of the girls had already left the locker room. She picked up her things, found another available locker, changed, and snapped her lock shut. As she proceeded to walk to the gym, she saw that she'd forgotten to pick up her lighter which had flown out of her bag. She sighed as she knelt down to get it, then slipped it into her pocket. Mickey's instructions to keep a low profile still echoed in her head. She supposed she didn't need to start shit on her first day... despite not having actually _started_ anything. 

They were split into teams and had to play basketball. Mandy had never had any interest in sports; Ian was the athletic one. Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered Ian. She missed him more than she even knew was possible. It had taken every ounce of strength she had left to not tell him about the baby and the abortion, or about her and Mickey planning to leave. She'd spent hours crying and thinking of ways to explain it to him, but in the end, he had avoided her... She really didn't blame Ian, after the beating Mickey had dealt him. She just wished she'd had a chance to say goodbye.

Without warning, she snapped back to reality as she fell forward onto all fours. She'd been hit in the back hard with a basketball. Turning back, she saw the source of the projectile: the girl from the locker room. It had been intentional. Mandy was sure. In true Milkovich style, she got up and walked over to the girl until their faces were so close Mandy could feel her breath on her face, and punched the girl so hard in the gut that she actually knocked her backwards onto the floor of the gym. Not giving up the advantage now, Mandy stepped over the girl, grabbed her by her blonde hair and started dragging her backwards until the two gym teachers broke them apart. 

They were sent to the dean's office and were given two weeks' worth of detention when neither girl responded to any of the dean's questions. Mandy was a bit relieved to not have been suspended, but given that this was her first day of school, she figured it was probably because the reputation of the name Milkovich hadn't followed her to NY yet.

They were alone in the detention classroom. Clearly nobody else had fucked up badly enough on the first day to end up there already. They sat in the back of the class, at opposite corners. Mandy kept looking at the clock and biting her lip, knowing that she was going to be late to work and hoping that she wouldn't get fired, not having had a chance to call the diner and get someone to cover for her. She was nervously tapping her foot against the desk. The teacher walked out and told them she would return at 5 and that they weren't allowed to use their cell phones or leave the classroom for any reason. Mandy could have sworn she'd heard the teacher lock the door behind her.

“Thought the bitch would never leave,” muttered the blonde. She got up and walked towards the window sill, took a seat against it and cracked the window open, pulling out a joint from inside her bra. She patted her pockets looking for a lighter but gave up after a while. Mandy figured the girl's lighter must have been in her backpack, which was still in the locker room, just like Mandy's cellphone was still in her locker. 

At that moment, a laugh escaped from Mandy. The blonde girl whipped her head in Mandy's direction. “You think this is fucking funny, bitch?”

Mandy shook her head, still smiling. She stuck her hand into the pocket of her gym shorts and pulled out the lighter that had fallen to the ground after the girl had thrown Mandy's backpack down. She placed the lighter on the desk and turned to look at the blonde, irony clearly visible all over her face. “I'll share if you will,” Mandy proposed.

The girl looked at Mandy's face and then down at the lighter on the table. After a minute of deafening silence, the blonde finally broke, answering Mandy with just one word: “Fine.”

Mandy got up and walked over to the window sill with the lighter. “I'm Mandy,” she said, introducing herself.

“Sara,” the blonde said as she passed over the joint. Mandy lit it and took a few hits before passing it back. She was petite, but Mandy could see the girl had firm, toned muscles. She was also very tan and had vibrant green eyes that reminded her of Ian. 

The girls talked during the rest of detention, and bonded over their two weeks in that same classroom. They sat together in the cafeteria each day making fun of the various groups of losers in their school, neither girl eating lunch. Mandy preferred to eat at the diner with Mickey because they got an employee discount. It worked well that they had about an hour between Mickey's shift ending and Mandy's beginning. They would sit and talk about their respective days. Sara would join them sometimes, although Mandy suspected that was because of the obvious crush the blonde had on her brother, but Sara never said a word about it to Mandy.

It turned out that Sara lived only a couple of blocks away from their apartment. They took the bus home together each afternoon, Sara walking with Mandy until the diner,  and then continuing on towards her house.

Mandy would go over to Sara's house to chill on the weekends since she and Mickey didn't have a TV in the apartment. The girl's mother was so high half the time that she wouldn't even notice Mandy was there.

Her new friendship with Sara notwithstanding, Mandy missed Ian every single day. There was always something that would remind her of him. One day at lunch, she was sitting with Sara when a redhead had walked past them and Mandy had frozen. After a lot of prodding on Sara's part, Mandy caved and decided to tell the blonde all about Ian. 

Sara suggested that Mandy call Ian, so after class, they went to a payphone and called him. She knew she had told Mickey she wouldn't call anyone at home until they were sure things had settled enough, but she just couldn't take the not knowing. She picked up the receiver and dialed Ian's number with trembling fingers—from fear or excitement, she wasn't sure. The phone rang a few times before Ian's familiar voice said, “Hello?”

“Hey...” Mandy practically whispered. She wasn't sure how Ian would react to finally hearing from her.

“Mandy? Is that you...? Are you okay? Where are you? Nobody's heard from you in almost two months! What happened? Are you with Mickey? What the hell is going on?”

Mandy smiled as her eyes brimmed with tears. Of course Ian wouldn't have been angry with her. He was too nice a person for that. “Ian, Ian... Slow down!” she demanded, relieved that he wasn't pissed at her. “Do you want me to answer your questions or not?” 

When he didn't reply, she continued. “I'm fine. Yes, I'm with Mickey. We had to leave... We had to get away. I can't tell you any details right now. I just missed you and I wanted to hear your voice.”

“I miss you too,” he said, emotion evident in his voice. “Where are you?” he asked.

“I can't really say. Mickey didn't want me calling home and he will probably be wondering where I am if I don't go soon. How are you? And the rest of the Gallaghers? Are you and Kash still fucking?” Sara chuckled at the last question. Mandy had forgotten that her friend was even in the booth with her. 

Ian started rambling on about his family, school and ROTC, telling her that life just wasn't the same without Mandy there. He told her things with Kash had gotten weird once Kash's wife Linda had discovered the truth about them. He said something about goats and Linda blackmailing Kash. Ian said they weren't seeing each other anymore, and work was very awkward when he and Kash had overlapping shifts.

Mandy didn't want him to ever stop talking. She could listen to him talk all day. Seeing the time on Sara's watch, she reluctantly said goodbye to Ian and promised to call again soon. Just hearing his voice made her feel like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

She and Sara made their way over to the diner. Mickey was none the wiser.


	6. That Was Fun

**Chapter 6**  
(Mickey POV)

Mickey eventually started feeling comfortable about his new life and new routine. A couple of months had passed since they'd gotten to NY. Mickey would sleep in two shifts: he called the first one his morning nap and the second his afternoon nap. He was at the diner from 7am-3pm and at the bar from 8pm-2am on weekdays. He worked at the bar from 6pm to 2am on Saturdays and Sundays. He got enough sleep, but it had to be broken down into the two halves during the week, otherwise it wouldn't work.

The positive about working at the diner was the employee discount. He and Mandy got their meals for half off. He was also glad he never had to talk to the customers, since he was in the kitchen all morning and afternoon. Mickey really liked working at Sullivan's. Brian's father was the owner of the bar, but he had gotten too old and too drunk to manage it, leaving most of the work to his son. Brian was only 23—probably too young to run the bar himself—but he took the responsibility seriously.

Brian had a bunch of random tattoos on his arms and his lip was pierced on the bottom left side. He had short, brown hair and a goatee with traces of red in it, undeniably advertising his Irish heritage. He liked rock and heavy metal, and had a bit of an obsession with System of a Down. Mickey and Brian usually worked the same shift, seeing how it was the busiest time. Tom, the older bartender, worked the afternoon shifts, when more of the regulars and drunks would stop by. Mickey had only met him a few times, but he seemed nice enough.

Mickey started staying after last call to drink and smoke with Brian and some of Brian's friends. They would order pizza, watch TV on the bar's flat screen and just shoot the shit. He was slowly accepting the fact that Brian was his friend now. The idea of having a friend hadn't crossed Mickey's mind since he'd left his last one on the ground, bleeding in the Gallaghers' backyard, a memory he'd desperately tried to forget.

Back in Chicago, Mickey had had people he bought weed from on a regular basis; people he could count on if he needed to fuck someone up; his brothers, even—but that was different. Brian was very friendly and Mickey would even describe him as “pushy” when it came to forcing Mickey to socialize. Mandy would usually stop by Sullivan's after closing time on the weekends, often with her friend Sara in tow. They said they had nothing better to do, but Mickey suspected that one of the reasons Mandy came by those nights when she could have been sleeping comfortably in bed was to see Brian.

Mandy was almost 16 now and Mickey didn't think he had any right to tell her who she could and couldn't be interested in, but Brian was 23. It seemed a little strange to him; why would Brian be interested in dating a teenager? Although Mandy sure didn't look or dress like a teen. She'd started styling her hair differently since moving to NY. It was no longer a frizzy black rainbow of a mess—the streaks of color she had in it were more subtle now that she straightened it every morning. She almost looked classy and slightly Gothic, especially when she added the dark eyeliner she was so fond of. It worked for her.

Mickey tried not to laugh when Mandy came home one day with a new System of a Down CD to listen to. He knew she was only trying to like the band to have something to talk to Brian about. She subtly tried to learn as much as she could about Brian through her brother. He smiled and told her to do her own digging.

One afternoon in early November, at the diner between their shifts, Mandy looked up at Mickey and smirked. “What the fuck is so God-damned funny?” he demanded.

“It's weird to see how different you are now...”

“What do you mean?” he asked her, as he fiddled with his lighter.

“Well, for starters, you're so clean.” She put a hand in his hair and ruffled it before he smacked her arm away. “You drink a fraction of what you used to. I haven't seen you hit anyone in months. We don't even own a bat in the apartment. Really, besides the cursing, the only thing about you that still reminds me of home is your tattoos.”

Mickey looked down at the words "FUCK U-UP" written on his knuckles and grimaced. He didn't even remember anything about the night he'd gotten them because he'd been so wasted. He'd woken up the next morning, and upon seeing them, he had regretted drinking with his brothers yet again. Mickey had pretended he was proud of the words. That had been more than two hears ago. All he could say to Mandy was: “Yeah, well...”

If he was honest with himself, Mickey was finding it to be a big relief not to have to "play" the thug anymore. He didn't have to steal, lie or cheat. He didn't have to beat anyone up to uphold his family's reputation. He even felt like his temper had dissipated.

One weekend not long after that conversation, Mandy and her friend Sara were sitting at the kitchen table when Mickey walked out of his room. He was in his boxers, as usual, and tried to ignore the blatant stare coming from Sara as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat next to the girl.

“We're ordering some Chinese food for lunch. Want anything?” Mandy asked. Mickey shook his head, just having woken up and not being ready yet for any conversation. “You know you're just going to end up stealing mine later. Why don't you just tell me what you want and we can order enough for you.”

Mickey smiled. His sister knew him so well. “Fine. I'll have some beef lo-mein. Make sure the fuckers give us extra soy sauce this time. And fortune cookies!”

Mandy made the call and placed their order. When she closed her cell, she said, “It's gonna be about an hour. They said they were busy.” Turning to Mickey, she frowned. “You mind entertaining Sara while I go shower?”

Mickey shrugged. Mandy jumped up and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and leaving them sitting awkwardly at the table.

“So, how are you going to 'entertain' me?” Sara asked him. Mickey glanced at the girl apprehensively. She was attractive, nobody could deny that, but he hadn't looked at her that way before. He could tell from her tone what she was insinuating. “No strings attached...” she added, grinning. Mickey cocked an eyebrow as she unzipped her sweater, got up from the table and walked out of the kitchen, presumably towards his room.

That easy? Mickey wondered. He hadn't had sex in months. He shrugged despite being alone, got up and followed Sara. She had already removed her T-shirt and jeans and was standing by the bed facing away from him. Mickey entered the room and shut the door behind him. He stepped forward so that he was standing mere inches behind Sara. She was wearing a navy blue bra and matching underwear. It was surprisingly feminine for someone as athletic-looking as Sara—lacy and delicate.

Mickey put his hands on her waist. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch. He slid his fingers up her back gently and could feel goosebumps forming on her skin. He unhooked her bra and she let it fall to the ground.

Mickey's erection was already tenting his boxers. Pulling them off, he moved around Sara and sat on the bed. He opened the drawer of the side table he'd gotten from Ikea a few weeks earlier and pulled out a condom. Sara bent over and slowly removed her panties, not needing any more confirmation from Mickey. She waited for him to roll the condom on and then proceeded to sit on top of him.

Mickey lay back, letting her control the situation. He preferred letting the girl take charge. He could feel that she was already very wet. She straddled him, blonde hair covering her face. She kept her gaze on his chest as she rose up and down. Sara was holding onto his arms, using his biceps as leverage. Mickey started grunting when she increased her pace, arching his hips up to meet her. He grabbed her ass and added to her momentum. His thrusts became stronger and he felt like he was going just a bit deeper each time.

“Look at me,” she said, grabbing his shoulders. He sat up a bit and moved his arms to her back as if he was embracing her. They were both panting now. He was close. He looked up at her and bright green eyes looked back at him. Only it wasn't Sara's face he saw—it was Ian's. He shut his eyes and moved his head into the small of her neck. She was moaning loudly now. Mickey could feel the muscles around his dick tensing as her orgasm began. He seized her and pulled her tightly against his chest, grunting into her neck as he climaxed.

His grip on Sara relaxed. They were both breathing heavily. She made to move and Mickey realized his eyes were still shut. He slowly opened them and dropped back to the bed, shifting the pillow beneath him a bit to be able to look at her.

“That was fun,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Let me know when you want another go.” She smiled at him, gathered up her clothes from the floor, got dressed and casually walked back to the kitchen without another word. Mickey could hear the shower still running as he clasped his hands and put them behind his head. He hadn't expected his morning to start _quite_ like that.


	7. Thanksgiving

**Chapter 7**  
(Mandy POV)

Mandy's 16th birthday was coming up in a week. Mandy hadn't mentioned it to anyone since birthdays typically went unnoticed in the Milkovich household. It was a disgusting, rainy night, so she and Sara were soaking wet when they ran into Sullivan's. It was turning out to be a very wet autumn. Last call had been an hour ago. The guys already had beers in hand. Grabbing their usual seats at a table in the far corner of the bar near the flat screen, the girls greeted the rest of the group.

“So Mands, Mickey tells us your birthday's pretty close. Got any plans?” Brian asked her.

“He did?” Mandy asked, astonished. Mickey just smiled in response. “Nah, nothing really...”

“Well, if you don't have plans, why don't we all go to a System show together?” he suggested. “It's at a small venue in the city so we would have to wait on line overnight if we want to get tickets.”

Mickey looked at Brian and said, “You do know we work nights, right?”

Brian grinned and explained that he could get Tom to switch shifts with him Friday and Saturday night, effectively giving them the weekend off, as long as Mickey was willing to work Friday afternoon to set things up for the weekend. Mandy silently flashed him a pleading look. She knew that Mickey hadn’t had a night off in a while and she hoped that would sway him into accepting. She tried to ignore the fact that they would have to spend the night outside in the cold. Mickey took a minute to think about it, taking in Mandy's begging expression before nodding. Mandy was so happy that she jumped out of her seat and gave her brother a hug around the shoulders. 

“Am I invited too?” Sara wondered.

“If you're willing to wait outside with us for the tickets, you're invited!” Brian explained. “All of you are welcomed to join us,” he said to the rest of the group.

“You can count me in,” said Brian's friend Travis. The others shook their heads. They probably might have changed their minds if it hadn't been pouring outside.

Mandy had only met Travis a few times at the bar, but she knew that he hung out with Brian and Mickey all the time. If she had to describe him in just one word, that word would be "dirty". Even back when she and Mickey had lived in south-side Chicago, her brother had never come close to looking as filthy as Travis did. He was as short as Sara and had long, greasy black hair which he shaved on the sides. It was a punk version of a mullet. By far the strangest thing about Travis was his tongue. It was _forked_. He'd explained to her that he'd had a tongue ring that had ripped out and torn his tongue down the middle, but instead of going to the hospital to have it stitched up, he had ghetto-bandaged it himself to _keep_ it separated. Travis boasted that there was an actual tongue-splitting surgery that was popular among body-mod enthusiasts, and that his “happy accident” had saved him a lot of money. He said there was even a famous man in Coney Island who had a forked tongue and called himself the Lizard Man. 

Mandy tried to hide a shiver when Travis demonstrated that he could control each half of his tongue independently. She saw Mickey and Sara both trying not to gag. Travis took out a metro card from his pocket and held it between his tongues. 

“Bet you can eat great pussy!” Sara joked. 

“Or give great head!” Brian countered. 

Everyone laughed but it was too gross for Mandy to think about. She stopped paying attention to Travis. She could now honestly say that extreme body modification was not her thing.

That Friday night, they took the 7 train from Flushing into the city. The show was at a small concert hall in downtown Manhattan. Brian had warned them to dress warm, but Mandy was freezing her tits off, regardless of her multiple layers. Sara had lent them all foldable lawn chairs to wait on the line with. They sat in a small circle, smoking cigarettes, and listened to Travis go on and on about the Lizard Man. The guy talked more than Ian!

They occasionally socialized with the other people waiting on the line. Brian left at one point to get them dinner from McDonald's, returning with some burgers for their group and bags full of apple pies which he passed around to the 40 some-odd strangers on line. He said it was a strategy he'd learned from going to so many of these pop-up concerts. If you became friends with the other people on the line, it would prevent line-cutting. He called it his “know-your-neighbor” philosophy. The rest of the night seemed to fly by. 

They bought their tickets at noon on Saturday and the show was later that night. They had time to kill so they walked around the city. It wasn't quite sight-seeing though, since they didn't see anything note-worthy. They found a cafe and had lunch, taking their time and just enjoying the warmth of being indoors. Mandy noticed that Mickey kept giving Sara these sidelong glances and she wondered yet again if there was something going on between them. Sara had denied it the first time Mandy had asked, but she made a mental note to talk to Mickey about it at home. 

After the show, they were all utterly exhausted. It had been so much fun. Mandy knew that even Mickey had enjoyed it despite not knowing most of the songs. He'd been in his first mosh pit that night and she'd tried not to laugh as she'd watched him crazily swing his arms around like Brian and Travis had shown him. Mandy and Sara had avoided the pit; they had no desire to be accidentally punched in the face. 

She fell into bed upon getting home and didn't even bother taking her sneakers off. She slept well through the next morning. When she finally woke up, Mandy saw that it was already 2 in the afternoon. She got up to go to the bathroom and glanced into her brother's room as she walked down the hall. He was still asleep, lying diagonally across his bed, and was in his jeans and the tacky black T-shirt he had bought off a street vendor the prior night after losing his own shirt at the show. The big red letters spelling "I <3 NY" on the front made Mandy smirk.

“Thanksgiving is only 4 days away,” Mandy said to Mickey while they sat eating cereal in the kitchen. “Can we have a dinner or something? I have off from the diner.”

“If you're offering to cook, I won't say no...” 

Mandy laughed. Mickey spent all day in the kitchen at the diner—she knew that by the time he got home, her brother was sick of it, hence his aversion to making anything at home that didn't come pre-cooked with simple reheating directions on the box. “Yeah, asshole, I'm offering. We should invite Sara and Brian. I wonder if his freaky friend Travis will want to come. Is there anyone else you want to invite?” Mickey shrugged and she took that as a no. 

“I have to go downstairs and help Mrs. Lombardi find Charlie. He's probably hiding under the sink again. Honestly, I don't know how she remembers her own name...” she trailed off as she got up from the table, leaving her bowl in the sink, knowing Mickey would put it in the dishwasher for her. He might not cook, but he wasn't a complete asshole.

As predicted, the cat was under the sink. Again.

“Thank you so much, Amanda dear,” she said. Mandy winced at the use of her full name but never corrected her landlord. “Are you and Michael doing anything special for Thanksgiving?” she asked.

“We're just having a few friends over for dinner. Nothing major.”

“Well, I'm cooking a big turkey. Why don't you all come over? It will just be Charlie and me.”

Mandy, surprised by the Mrs. Lombardi's invitation, stopped to think for a minute before answering. She had no idea how to cook a friggin' turkey. Mrs. Lombardi was always so nice to them, rarely bothering them and never asking for much except some help carrying groceries in and the like. She felt bad knowing that the old lady would be spending the holiday alone. On the plus side, she _did_ have an actual dining room, albeit surrounded by creepy porcelain dolls instead of china dishes. 

“If you let my friend Sara and me pay for the groceries and help you with the cooking, you have a deal,” she said.

The smile that broke across Mrs. Lombardi's face was enough to reassure Mandy that she'd made the right decision. After getting a list of ingredients from the old lady, she hurried back upstairs to tell Mickey the new plans. She still had to call and invite Sara and Brian.

The dinner went flawlessly. Mandy and Sara spent all of Thanksgiving Day cooking a feast in Mrs. Lombardi's kitchen, helping with everything except the actual turkey. Mickey, Brian, Travis and Travis' friend Joe turned up at 3 for the early meal. After dinner, Mickey surprised Mandy with an ice cream birthday cake from Carvel that he'd obviously dropped off with their landlord before the dinner preparations had begun. It was the first cake she'd had since she'd been a little girl and she tried to hide her tears, playing them off as a result of the smoke from the candles. 

Mandy remembered that her mom had baked her a cake the night before her fourth birthday and left it on the counter to cool overnight, but upon waking the next morning, Mandy had discovered the cake on the floor, destroyed, and her parents sitting on the floor of the kitchen, still high, needles still hanging from their arms. She'd started crying and Mickey had come out, pulled her away from the kitchen, and taken her into his room. Making her close her eyes and promise not to peek, he'd somehow procured a Twinkie with a little candle sticking out the top. That was the moment she'd known that her brother would always take care of her, no matter what, even if he'd only been five years old at the time.

After the boys left for work, mumbling something about a football game that she had absolutely no interest in, she'd helped Mrs. Lombardi package up the leftovers. She'd given a ton to Sara to take home and had taken whatever didn't fit into the old lady's fridge upstairs to her own, including what was left of the ice cream cake. 

The only other thing she wanted to do for her birthday was talk to Ian. She walked to another payphone and made the call, using almost all the change she had on her. When he answered, she could hear the stress in his voice. 

“Hey Ian, Happy Thanksgiving. What's the matter? You sound terrible.” 

He sighed and without any prodding necessary, started spilling out everything that had happened to him in the month since they'd last spoken. He said his mother Monica had come home with her butch, black, lesbian, truck-driver girlfriend and they'd tried to take his baby brother Liam away. He and Lip had found out that Frank actually was Liam's father according to a paternity test, so that problem had been solved. 

She could hear his voice getting coarse with emotion as he continued confiding in Mandy. Apparently he and Lip had also taken their own paternity tests, and discovered that Frank was not Ian's father, but rather his uncle. “No wonder he hates me so much...”

Mandy felt so helpless. She was so far away from her best friend and she couldn't think of anything she could say over the phone that would make him feel better. Finally, she decided that it was time to be honest with him. “Well, at least he didn't rape and impregnate you,” she said as airily as she could manage. There was a long moment of silence.

“ _What?_ ”

“That's why Mickey and I left. My dad was drunk every time it happened. He blacked out afterwards and never remembered. About a month and a half after it started happening, I found out I was pregnant. Mickey didn't know anything about it—that's why he thought it was you. We left right after the abortion...”

When Ian didn't respond, Mandy wondered if the time on the payphone had run out. “Ian?” she asked.

“Yeah... yeah, I'm still here. Mandy, why didn't you tell me? Oh my God, that's fucking insane. You're giving me a run for my money here in terms of whose life is more fucked up,” he chuckled, but there was no real joy behind his words.

“I'm sorry. I didn't want to think about it. I just wanted to get away from him. We took his guns and pawned them, and then stole his car and drove here to NY,” she said, telling him the truth about where she was.

“Terry's back in jail, last I heard. Kev mentioned something about it when he and Veronica were over for dinner a few nights ago. He violated his parole when he was out on a bender and got himself thrown back into prison. 

Mandy breathed out a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?” she whispered. 

“Yeah, but I can try to get more details for you. Everyone is still inside having turkey,” Ian responded. “So... New York? Can I come visit? I'll take a bus over during Christmas break. I can buy my ticket as soon as I go back inside. I'll use Steve's credit card.”

Mandy's heart was pounding with excitement. “Seriously?” she asked. “Mickey's gonna be pissed that I told you where we are...” she confessed.

“He'll get over it.”

Once all the arrangements had been made, Mandy ended the call. She didn't tell Mickey the news about their dad because she didn't know how she could explain what she'd learned without revealing her calls to Ian. He'd find out eventually, but it was her birthday and she didn't want any drama. She walked back to the apartment, grinning like a kid. A huge weight she hadn't even acknowledged was there had been lifted off her shoulders. _Terry's in prison! And Ian is coming to visit in just a month!_

She felt so _thankful_ and smiled at the ironic timing of that feeling.


	8. Rocky Horror

**Chapter 8**  
(Mickey POV)

The days just seemed to roll on by. The weather was still crappy, and getting worse as the end of the year approached, but it didn't matter to Mickey at all. Their apartment was warm. He kept himself busy with work and savored the nights when he was able to relax with his friends at the bar.

One such night, Mickey was sitting at their usual table, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other, thinking about Christmas being only a few weeks away. Travis asked him a question, or so Mickey gathered from the expectant way Travis was looking at him, waiting for an answer. 

“What?" asked Mickey.

“Have you ever seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show?” Travis repeated. 

“What the fuck is that?”

Travis suddenly grabbed his arm. “Are you serious? Brian!” he called to the big guy. “He's never been to Rocky Horror! Dude, you have to go.” 

Mickey had no idea what Travis was talking about, but the sudden outburst caused Brian and Mandy to walk over from the bar and rejoin the group's conversation.

“I've heard about it and I think Ian and I watched part of the movie once, but I've never been to see it live,” Mandy explained. Turning to Brian, she added quietly, “I don't think Mickey would be comfortable...” Mickey heard that. _What the hell are they talking about? Why won't I like it?_

Brian seemed to light up from hearing about the idea. “I love it man, but I haven't had a chance to go since my dad stopped working the weekend shifts. I used to go every weekend. We should go this weekend. I'll ask Tom if he can cover for me Saturday night.” 

Mickey was confused. He asked why anyone would go to the theater to see the same movie so often. Brian and Travis both laughed and told him he would understand when he saw it. 

“I'll see if Sara wants to come,” Mandy said.

Saturday came and Tom agreed to cover for Brian yet again. He said he didn’t mind the overtime when the holidays were fast approaching, because his kids were greedy little bastards. The movie was in Manhattan, more specifically in an area called Chelsea. This was only Mickey's second time going to into the city since they had moved to NY. The show started at midnight. They got there early, bought their tickets and walked in. 

Mickey started getting a little nervous when he saw the type of people in the crowd lined up inside, waiting to get into the theater. There were about 50 people, ages 15 to 40ish, dressed like punks and goths. Some were only wearing corsets and fishnet stockings, without anything else. He bit his lower lip and Brian put a hand on his shoulder and told him not to worry; it would be fun. Sara smirked at Mickey when she saw how uncomfortable he obviously was.

Their friend Joe walked by and covered Travis' eyes from behind. “Guess who!” he said, voice singsong. Travis grabbed the offending hands and turned around to see the boy. Joe was skinny, blonde and had recently added bright blue streaks in his spiky hair. Mickey hadn't seen him since Thanksgiving, but hadn't thought much of the boy's absence since he wasn't a regular in their group. There was something about the way Travis looked at Joe just then that seemed weird to Mickey. It was even weirder when Travis suddenly excused himself to go to the bathroom without saying anything to Joe. 

Joe was holding a clipboard in his hands and looked at Brian very business-like. “I have to write their names on the list,” he explained.

“Yeah man, of course,” Brian said. “Would you mind doing me a favor and putting Mickey at the top?”

Joe nodded. He wrote Mandy, Sara and Mickey's names down. “Do you want to buy prop bags?” Brian bought them each a bag and Joe handing them out to the group, giving an extra one to Brian for Travis, before walking over to the next people in line.

Mickey raised an eyebrow at Brian. He clearly didn't know what the list was for but he was more distracted about why Travis had been gone so long. Mandy must have been thinking the same thing because she asked Brian to explain what was going on. 

“Joe and Travis hooked up around Thanksgiving, but things didn't exactly work out. Travis isn't taking it well. Bad timing with work and everything... and Joe isn't exactly making it any easier, acting like nothing has changed...” Brian explained.

Mickey was shocked but tried not to show his reaction. _Travis is gay?_ He had no idea. But then he thought back to any and all conversations he could remember having with Travis (or rather, Travis always yammering on about everything and nothing in particular). He tried to remember Travis ever using the word "she" when talking about getting laid, but couldn't. The way that Brian just matter-of-factly told them about Travis was what really surprised Mickey. It was as if it was no big deal at all. He could see that Brian clearly didn't give a shit about his friend's sexual preferences. 

Suddenly Mickey remembered the comment Brian had made the night they'd met Travis. Sara had said he'd probably be great at eating pussy with that forked tongue of his and Brian had made a joke about him giving head. Mickey had just passed it off as a joke but it made a lot of sense now. Looking around again, Mickey started to panic. With this new information, Mickey could see that a lot of the guys at the theater looked like fucking fagots. Not all of them, but more than he would have ever seen back home. This would have been his homophobic father's wet dream: a room full of queers, all in one place—easy pickings.

“Mickey...” Mandy put an arm on his shoulder. “Look at me, ass-face,” she whispered into his ear. “You need to relax! Travis is our friend.” She smiled at him, obviously picking up on his feelings and trying to help him stop stressing out. Mandy and Sara's nonchalance towards finding out about Travis was unnerving. Mickey let out a shaky breath and tried to smile back at her. He wasn't sure what his expression looked like, but it definitely wasn't “relaxed”. Travis returned a few minutes later but he was uncharacteristically quiet. 

Around 15 minutes before midnight, they were allowed into the theater. They found seats together in a middle row and sat down. There was music and a small group started to form at the head of the theater, just in front of the screen. Some of the kids were dancing. Mandy was excited and grabbed Brian by the hand, dragging him to the front to dance with her. Mickey sat next to Travis, watching his sister dance with his boss, and could see her smile whenever the small disco ball shined its multi-colored lights in her direction. Sara tried to convince him to go up with her and dance, but Mickey remained rooted to his seat. He had never been one to dance. 

Mickey wasn't one to care about other people much, and he wasn't that close with Travis, but he felt like he had to say something to fill the awkward silence, despite the music. Mickey hesitantly turned to face Travis. His friend was acting weird. He asked Travis if he was alright; Travis just nodded. 

After a couple of songs, the lights started to brighten and the music was turned down. A man dressed in costume walked up to center stage with a microphone and asked everyone to sit down. He announced that before the show could begin, they have a little tradition. Before each show, they play a game called "let's have an orgasm!". As he said it, the rest of the crowd screamed the name of the game along with him.

"Unbeknownst to you, your friends have added names to what we call the 'Virgin List'." Mickey froze in his place. He glanced sidelong at Brian. "Now I know what you're thinking,” the host continued. “No, not that kind of virgin. If you've never seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show live on the big screen, then you're a virgin. Now, where is Mickey? Mickey, stand up." 

Mickey gave Brian a glare and then slowly stood up. “To kick things off, I want everyone in the room to give Mickey a big fuck you on the count of three!” the host said. 

He counted to three and everyone turned to Mickey, raised their middle fingers and shouted: "Fuck you!" He then told Mickey he could sit and Mickey was confused as hell. 

The guy started going down the list, reading off names. When they were called, Mandy and Sara got up and followed everyone on their way to stand at the front of the stage. They formed a line facing the audience. The guy explained the rules of the game. In turn, each 'virgin' had to make the sounds of a fake orgasm into the mic. When it was Mandy's turn, Mickey practically squirmed in his seat as his sister moaned. He looked at Brian and saw that his boss was also looking uncomfortable. Good. 

Once everyone had a turn, the audience voted for their favorite by giving applause. Of course, Mandy won. “Way to go, slut,” Mickey told her as she returned to her seat, prize in hand. It looked like a T-shirt. Brian awkwardly congratulated her.

Mickey looked at Sara, who didn't seem disappointed at all at having lost. She gave him a wicked grin. “You know I'm not into making much noise...” She winked at him. They hadn't had sex a second time and Mickey looked away from her quickly. 

The movie began with a pair of red lips singing an intro. At the same time, a girl in costume was standing on the stage at the front of the theater where everyone had been dancing earlier. She was lip-syncing to the intro, and once in a while, the audience would shout something out to her, all in unison. 

“What the hell is this?” he asked Travis quietly.

“There are audience participation lines. Based on certain queues in the movie, we have to say our own lines, or use our props.” He gently waved the little paper bag Brian had given him in Mickey's face, as if that explained everything. Travis turned his attention back to the screen.

The first real scene of the movie depicted a wedding. When the newly married couple was walking out from the church, the audience started throwing the rice from their prop bags. There was rice flying everywhere, in every single direction at once. Mickey grabbed the rice from his bag and joined in. It was kind of fun until he got hit in the face with some, but his reaction was to laugh.

He soon learned that whenever the male lead, Brad, was on screen, the entire audience shouted “asshole” at the top of their lungs. Respectively, when the female lead, Janet, was shown, they shouted “slut!”

The couple's car got a flat tire and they were stranded on a country road in the middle of nowhere. It was raining, and they had to go look for help. As they made their way through the rain, walking to an old mansion to use the phone and call for help, the audience unfolded the newspaper pages in their prop bags, mimicking Janet's on-screen actions. The members of the cast were using spray bottles to create the effect of rain. Looking over at his sister, he could see her smiling. _This isn't so bad... A faggy musical, sure, but it's kinda fun..._

Other props included dry toast, toilet paper and playing cards. When Mickey listened to the audience participation lines, he learned that some of them were actually really funny. There were a few political zingers about Obama that he even laughed at. 

What made him the most uncomfortable that night was probably this dance they had to do called the Time Warp. The movie itself explained how to do it, and he saw that he wasn't the only one not having a fucking clue what to do. Travis and Sara dragged him up out of his seat against his will and he fumbled his feet around until he sort of—maybe, not at all—had the steps down. Everyone in the audience was standing and dancing, so it was just another one of those things that he just had to accept.

Mickey soon realized that the plot of the movie wasn't important. It was basically about this transvestite who lived in the mansion the couple went to for help. The tranny brought his “creation,” Rocky, to life, much like a more modern, freaky Frankenstein. All the characters proceeded to fuck each other that night, and in the end, the maid and the butler killed the transvestite and flew home on their space ship. It was utterly ridiculous. 

When the show was over and they all walked out of the theater, he was feeling a lot better. It honestly hadn't been that bad. His friends were smiling (well, except Travis, who was still in a bad mood) and talking about their favorite parts. He shook his hoodie and smirked as some pieces of rice fell out of the folds. They took the 7 train back home and everyone split up to walk to their respective homes.

“Are you still freaking out?” Mandy asked him as they walked up the stairs into their apartment.

“I don't know...” Mickey replied. “It was fucking weird—don't get me wrong...” he trailed off.

“And what about Travis?” she wondered.

Mickey walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer out of the fridge and offered one to Mandy. He sat down and took a sip before answering, “Well, we knew he was a freak from the start, right?” He started to laugh.

“That's not funny...” she told him.

“Yeah it is. Fucking weirdo split his own tongue down the middle. You can't tell me that isn't fucked up!” They both laughed this time. “I don't know, Mands... It's weird,” he finally said.

“He's still our friend... He seemed so sad, right? That idiot Joe must have really gotten under his skin. What does he see in him anyway? He isn't even cute! And did you see his _hair?”_ She smirked.

“You're one to talk!” Mickey scoffed. “Do you remember those hot pink and yellow streaks you put in your own hair? You looked ridiculous!”

“Well, Ian liked it,” she countered, grinning.

Mickey didn't respond. He never did anymore when she mentioned Gallagher. He drained his beer and put the can on the counter before walking to his room. He heard Mandy call out goodnight behind him.

It was already almost 4am. Mickey got undressed and crawled onto his bed. He was once again thankful for the warm, cozy apartment they had managed to find at such a bargain. He was exhausted and tried to go to sleep but his mind wouldn't let him. It kept going back to the redhead. Despite his efforts not to, Mickey wondered what Gallagher was up to. He thought of him in his stupid ROTC uniform, running through the drills that he and Mandy had both helped him set up on a rooftop. He couldn't understand the kid's obsession with the army.

Mickey needed to sleep. Turning over so he was lying face-down on the bed, his last thought before passing out was to wonder what Gallagher would have thought of the movie.


	9. Holidays

**Chapter 9**  
(Mickey POV)

Mickey was at the bar when he got a phone call from Mrs. Lombardi. Opening his cellphone, he saw that it was almost 2 in the morning. He put the phone nervously to his ear.

“Michael dear, are you there?” Her voice was straining and he could tell she was shouting to be heard.

“Yes Mrs. Lombardi. What's wrong?”

“Oh, nothing dear...” she said. “It's just that the music upstairs is a bit loud and I'm having trouble sleeping. I tried knocking on the door but there was no answer. I hope Amanda is alright.”

“I'm sorry about the noise, Mrs. Lombardi. I'm sure she's fine. I'm leavin' work now and I'll make sure to kick her ass for causing you so much trouble.”

“Michael! Watch your language!” Mrs. Lombardi exclaimed.

“Sorry...” he muttered as he closed the phone. Turning to Brian, he asked, “Mind finishing up without me? Looks like Mandy is finally acting like a teenager.” Brian shrugged.

Mickey rushed home because it was fucking freezing out. He practically ran the few blocks to the apartment. He could hear the music from outside. _Shit. Do we even have a stereo?_ Walking in through the door, Mickey had to bite his lip to keep himself composed. Mandy and Sara were in the kitchen together, dancing together in just their underwear. They were all over each other.

“What the fuck is going on?” Mickey shouted. Finding the source of the music, he pulled the CD player off the kitchen counter, pulling the plug out from the socket and effectively killing the music. 

“What the hell, Mickey! We're just celebrating the start of winter break!” Mandy explained.

Mickey could see both girls were sweating. “Are you _on_ something?” He was shocked at his sister. Sara stood next to Mandy, arms entwined, and pressed her body up against the other girl. She gave Mickey a naughty grin, revealing a pill on the tip of her tongue just before she swallowed it.

Mickey didn't even have time to react, because at that moment, he heard a flush from the bathroom, and out walked Ian Gallagher. “What happened to the music?” Gallagher asked as he rejoined the girls.

Mickey had no words. He turned around and retreated to his room, slamming the door behind him. He was only partially aware of the fact that the CD player was still in his hand.

The next morning, it was the noise from the kitchen that woke him up. Walking through the hallway towards the room at the end, he slowly passed by Mandy's room and peered in. The door was half open and he could see Gallagher and Sara asleep on Mandy's bed. They were still in only their underwear and one of Sara's arms was draped across the redhead, whose bare chest gently rose and fell with each slow breath. 

Entering the kitchen, he saw Mandy busily cooking breakfast. The noise that awoke him must have been the clatter of the pans on the stove top. Mandy turned to face him as she heard him walk into the room. She clearly saw the anger on his face but started rambling before he had a chance to open his mouth. “Dad violated his parole and is back in prison. I really missed Ian and I just _had_ to call him. I used a payphone, so don't freak out. He's here for Christmas. He'll be gone after New Years. I'm sorry I didn't warn you. And I'm sorry about last night. I already went downstairs and apologized to Mrs. Lombardi.” She gave him her best puppy-dog face, but that shit didn't work with him.

Mickey took a deep breath. “Back in prison?”

Mandy nodded. Mickey let out the breath. 

“Okay.” It felt surreal. Terry was in prison. They were safe for the time being. 

“What are you making?” he asked his sister, peering over her shoulder at the contents of the pans on the stove.

“Pancakes. And bacon. You have about 15 minutes.” She flipped over a pancake. 

Mickey just shrugged and walked to the bathroom. He couldn't think of anything else to do or say. He needed to shave and shower before work. 

When he walked back into the kitchen, towel tied around his waist and hair still damp, the three chairs they had in the kitchen were already taken. _Gotta do something about that soon._ He tried to ignore the hungry stare Sara gave him when she noticed his half-naked body.

Mandy got up and pushed a plate full of food into his hand. He grunted his thanks and leaned against the counter, drenching his pancakes in syrup. His eyes meet Gallagher's for just a second but Mickey quickly glanced away, still nervous about where things stood between them. He subconsciously bit his lower lip before shoving a slice of crispy bacon into his mouth.

“So what's the plan for today?” Sara wonders.

Mickey turns his attention to his breakfast and only halfheartedly listens to the conversation that follows. Mandy and Ian have decided that their tiny apartment needs to be more festive. They plan on buying a small tree and some decorations before Mandy's shift at the diner.

Mickey finished up and put his plate in the dishwasher before getting dressed and heading to work. They met him for lunch after his shift. Mandy eventually left to go get changed into her stereotypical waitress uniform that Mickey never stopped teasing her about. Mickey still hadn't said a word to the redhead, but with his sister gone, the silence was deafening.

“It's Friday. I gotta go sleep before work tonight,” he said to Sara, and left them sitting in the booth. 

The decorations in the apartment were pathetic. Mickey scowled as he first looked at the tiny tree which was sitting atop a cardboard box covered with a small red blanket, then at the string of lights that wound around the kitchen. _Well, it's something..._

He had almost finished work that night when Mandy and Ian swung by the bar around closing. Mandy said she wanted to finally introduce Ian to Brian and the rest of the group. Mickey tried his hardest to keep himself busy with cleaning up for the night while the rest of them drank and chatted away. If Brian noticed how much effort Mickey was putting into mopping the floor, he kept his mouth shut. Their friends eventually left as the night wore on until just the Milkoviches, Ian, Brian and Travis remained. The five of them sat around their regular table. Travis lit up a joint which he proceeded to pass around after taking his own hit. If Mickey hadn't been so wary of how things stood with him and Gallagher, he'd probably have enjoyed the evening a bit more. 

He grimaced as Brian told Ian about the night they all went to Rocky Horror. Ian almost spit out his beer when Mandy described Mickey getting a big "fuck you" from the audience. 

“Mickey Milkovich went to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show?” Ian ask incredulously. “And nobody was taken out in a body bag?”

Mandy elbowed Ian roughly and told him to have more faith in her brother. Mickey could feel himself starting to turn red and he was sure that his blush was obvious on his pale skin. “Yeah, well, Tim Curry was funny in the movie Clue. And remember he was the hotel manager in Home Alone 2? Now whenever I see him, I'm gonna imagine him in fucking drag. Can we please talk about something else?” he pleaded to nobody in particular. He pulled out another cigarette from the pack in his pocket.

Ian drained his glass and got up to pour himself some more beer, but the tap sputtered and was obviously empty. Mickey grunted and said he would go connect a new keg. He lazily walked downstairs to the storage room. The space in the small basement wasn't much of a space at all. The walls were lined with shelves stocked with liquor and specialty drinks. There was a conveyer belt that went up to the street level, opening onto the alley behind the bar for deliveries. There were also two freezers full of ice, and a fridge for garnishes. Mickey walked over to the pile of kegs and was about to lift one over his shoulder when he felt someone standing behind him. Micky tensed and slowly turned around. He saw that Gallagher had followed him down and scowled at the boy.

Ian was the first to break the silence. "Listen, Mick. I don't care what happened before. You were pissed and were trying to protect your sister. I get it. I'm not angry. I'm only here for a week and I don't want it to be weird between us. We were friends before that crap happened anyway, right?" and he stuck his hand out to Mickey like they were making a deal or some shit. Mickey looked at Ian's outstretched hand dubiously and then looked back up at Ian's face, seeing the hopeful expression there. Mickey didn't say anything. He just took a puff from his cigarette and walked past Gallagher to go back upstairs. “Hey! What about the beer?” Gallagher shouted. 

“Don't be a spoiled brat; just drink whatever else is on tap!” Mickey yelled back. He felt relieved that Gallagher wasn't holding a grudge, and hoped his last comment would let Ian know that he agreed with him. Mickey also wanted things to go back to normal... back to what it had been like before the pregnancy. 

They all woke up pretty late the next morning. Mickey didn't know how his sister turned into such a morning person. It was so un-Milkovich of her. Walking into Mickey's room with a cup of coffee, she happily sat on his bed and shoved it into his hand. “We're going sightseeing today, and you're coming with us,” she stated. It wasn't a question.

“Mandy... what the hell...” It was too early for this shit.

“Ian's never been to NYC before. Do you realize that we have been living half an hour away from the city for over five months now and we've only gone to Manhattan _two_ times? And both were at night!” As if reading his mind, Mandy insisted, “I won't take no for an answer. You're coming and that's that. Dress warm. I think it might snow today.” 

They all bought unlimited daily MetroCards because Sara said it would be the best value. Apparently they had a lot of ground to cover. Sara looked very happy that Mickey was coming along but he ignored her as usual. They took the 7 train all the way to its last stop, so Times Square was their first destination. They sat on the red steps near the “tkts” booth and took pictures, then got themselves projected onto the Forever21 big-screen. They spent almost an hour playing video game demos in the Toys 'R' Us, but refused to cough up the $7 each to ride the Ferris wheel.

Then they walked downtown a few blocks to the Macy's at Herald Square. The whole fucking store was decorated for Christmas. They went window shopping to see the Christmas displays, which Mickey thought was a fucking waste of time, and he didn't hesitate to let the others know by constantly complaining. They saw a street vendor selling hats and gloves. Sara bought herself a fuzzy pink scarf that was absolutely not her style, causing Mandy to tease her the rest of the day. She claimed it was warm and that was all that mattered. Mickey was tempted to buy a scarf he was eying too, but changed his mind at the last second. He didn't know what else was planned for the day and didn't want to go overboard.

They hopped on the R train and took it uptown to Central Park. Sara said she was taking them ice-skating at Wollman Rink, because even though it was expensive, it wasn't as much as it would cost in Rockefeller Center, and the line was usually a lot shorter. It came to $24 each, including the skate rental, but it was well worth it. Mickey was actually decent at skating. He used to go with his brothers to play hockey when they were younger. Ian and Mandy were acting like a couple again, so Sara grabbed his hand and got him to skate the laps with her. He supposed it was better than being alone.

They must have been skating for almost two hours. Mickey's knees felt like they were going to give out. They returned their skates and walked around Central Park a bit. They bought hot dogs and roasted peanuts from a small food cart and sat on a bench to take a break. It was getting dark.

They walked about 10 minutes downtown to Rockefeller Center. Mickey had heard people talk about the tree before but seeing it in person was a whole different fucking story. He'd never seen one so big. Mandy had her elbows locked with Ian and the grins on both their faces were huge; Micky could see how happy they were and it was infectious. They took a shitload of pictures everywhere they went, but the most were taken in front of that tree. It was only at night that it started snowing. The snowflakes that fell weren't the inconvenient kind—they were the kind that looked like glitter, that didn't actually stick on the ground. The last thing they did in the city before going home was buy some hot chocolate, because Sara said it would complete the experience.

It was a pain in the ass having to go to work that night, but he figured he'd catch up on sleep the next morning. He usually did on Sundays anyway. True to form, he collapsed into his bed just after 2am that night, and didn't wake up until the next afternoon.

With only a day left before Christmas Eve, Mickey was a bit nervous. He had no idea what gifts to buy. Mandy had already left for work, so when Gallagher told him he'd decided to spend the afternoon with Mickey and suggested going to the mall, Mickey couldn't help but grin. They made a plan during the subway ride, knowing the mall would be hectic this time of the year. Mickey bought a TV for Mandy from Best Buy, since the girl hadn't stopped complaining about needing one since they had gotten the apartment back in July. He was thankful they offered overnight shipping for free so he wouldn't have to carry the thing around with him all day at the mall.

“I figure I can get Brian a bottle of Jack, but I have no idea what to fucking get Sara. Any suggestions?” he asked.

“Are you two dating?”

Mickey snorted. “Nah. I just know she will be pissed if I don't get her anything.” He left out the part about them hooking up.

Ian smiled. “Oh, okay.”

“And you? You and my sister looked like you might be getting back together, the way you were holding hands all day yesterday...”

Ian looked momentarily confused. “What? No, she likes Brian. We just missed each other... that's all.” The smile returned to his face then, and he tentatively asked, “So, are you getting me something?”

Mickey stopped walking and looked at Ian. He could see the boy blushing, cheeks turning as red as his hair. He grinned widely at Mickey. “Why, Firecrotch? Did you get me something?”

“Maybe.”

Mickey thought about that before saying anything else. Should he have gotten Gallagher something? He'd gotten his other friends gifts. He supposed it was only fair. “Well, I didn't exactly know you would be here for Christmas, did I?” he said. Ian just continued grinning at him. “Yeah, okay. Let's go find you something. Got anything in mind?” 

Things were definitely back to normal between them. 

Mickey had to work on Christmas Eve. The bar was actually crazy busy. He was looking forward to having off on Christmas Day.

They spent the holiday in their apartment with Sara and Brian coming over. Mickey wasn't sure where Travis had been for the last few nights. Brian had decided to don a Santa hat for the night. They ordered pizza because they were fucking classy like that. They all opened presents. Mandy was over the moon about the TV and Mickey was actually surprised when she said they should leave it in the kitchen instead of taking it to her room. She said she would talk to Mrs. Lombardi about splitting her cable with she went downstairs to give her the flowers they'd bought for her the next morning.

Mandy gave Mickey his gift next. She'd bought him a blown glass ashtray and a Zippo lighter with a blue flame design on it. “So you stop throwing your butts in our coffee cups,” she explained. 

He gave Sara a CD and was glad to see that there wasn't any disappointment on her face. Gallagher had obviously talked to Mandy about what kind of music Sara liked, because Mickey had had no clue. Mickey opened her gift next and was actually surprised when he found a small, orange Rx bottle filled with various different multicolored pills. “Courtesy of my fucked up mother,” Sara supplied. She'd gotten the same gift for everyone. Mickey wondered yet again what was going on in Sara's head, but just smiled and thanked her.

When he opened his gift from Brian, Mickey let out a genuine laugh. They had gotten each other the same sized bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey. Brian slapped Mickey on the back as he said, “See? We're meant to be together.”

The only gift left under their pathetic tree had to be for Mickey from Gallagher. Ian was already wearing the tan hoodie that Mickey had bought for him at the mall, and Mickey had been glad that Gallagher hadn't expected him to wrap the fucking thing up when he already knew what it was. Mickey opened the flat red box and saw that Ian had gotten him the gray knitted scarf he'd been tempted to buy in the city. He couldn't help but smile. He wondered how the little shit had managed to buy it without anyone seeing.

They spent the rest of the night drinking. Mandy and Brian eventually ended up stumbling into her room together. Mickey guessed Ian had been right about his sister really liking Brian. Ian didn't look the least bit jealous to see his ex-girlfriend clearly about to hook up with someone else. 

A few drinks later, Sara was passed out on the couch. Mickey stood and started gathering up the cans and putting them onto the kitchen counter because the recycling bag was full. Ian was standing in the doorway with his last beer. “Where the hell am I going to sleep tonight? Mandy's room is clearly taken and the couch is occupied.”

Mickey looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “You done with that?” he asked Ian, motioning to the beer.

Ian killed the bottle and held it out towards Mickey. Sighing, Mickey walked over to him and snatched it from his hand with a smirk. 

“You're standing under the mistletoe,” Sara said from the couch. Well, apparently the girl wasn't sleeping. Mickey looked up and saw the small plant hanging in the doorway above them. He hadn't noticed the thing before. He looked back down and Firecrotch was just smirking at him. Mickey could feel the blush creeping up his face. Mickey didn't kiss. And he sure has hell wasn't going to kiss Gallagher. Their bodies suddenly seemed way too close. He quickly shoved the bottle back into Gallagher's hand and pushed past him into the hallway. He practically ran to his room and slammed the door behind him. He didn't care that Ian called after him asking where the hell he is going to sleep. Let him fucking kick Sara off the couch.

The next few days passed quickly and New Year's Eve rolled around before Mickey even knew it. There was a party at Sullivan's and everyone was there. Brian didn't even say anything to Mandy or her friends about coming in during business hours, which he had always been a stickler for. Mickey wondered if it had anything to do with his sister hooking up with the bartender the previous week, despite him not having seen them really talk since that night. He was busy carrying up ice from the storage room when the people in the bar started counting down. He glanced at the TV and saw that the ball in Times Square was already dropping, and when it finally reached the bottom, everyone was cheering. 

He looked over and saw Mandy and Brian kissing behind the bar. Mickey had always thought it was disgusting and had made it his rule from the beginning to avoid it at all costs. When Sara walked over to him and wished him a Happy New Year, she was looking at his lips expectantly but Mickey shoved past her. He'd had enough. He needed to get some fresh air. 

Mickey stormed out of the bar, realizing too late that he should have grabbed a jacket. It was fucking freezing outside. 

“What's your problem?” He didn't have to turn around to recognize Gallagher's voice. The boy hurried to catch up with him. “You've been acting weird since Christmas, Mick. I thought things were back to normal between us...”

Mickey kept walking, turning into the alley behind Sullivan's. Without warning, he was slammed against the brick wall of the bar. “Stop being such a fucking asshole, Mickey.” Ian said, voice low. “I know that's not who you really are...”

Something in the way Ian said that last part made the breath catch in Mickey's throat. He remembered why he'd wanted to run from the redhead all those months ago in Chicago. Ian's hands were on Mickey's chest, pressing him back against the cold bricks. They were standing so close that Mickey could practically taste the beer and cigarettes on Ian's breath, which was turning to steam as he spoke.

“Let's finish what we should have started at Christmas.”

Mickey didn't have a chance to respond. 

Ian pushed his lips against Mickey's. He ran his tongue along Mickey's closed mouth, eliciting a moan from the older boy, and when his lips parted with the moan, Ian's tongue gently slipped into Mickey's mouth. Gallagher's tongue was so warm and he tasted so sweet. Without even thinking, Mickey automatically slid his hands under the back of Ian's shirt, pulling them closer. The boy's soft skin felt so hot even though it was freezing outside. 

Their bodies were flush. Mickey's erection was pressing against Ian's thigh, but even through their jeans, he could feel that Ian had one too. That realization shocked Mickey back to reality. He abruptly shoved Ian away from him and punched him in his face. He thought he felt bone cracking, and when he looked at Ian's bloody nose, he was sure he had broken it.

“Kiss me again and I'll cut your fucking tongue out,” he whispered to Ian, just loud enough that he was sure the redhead heard him. Mickey turned around and walked back to the bar.


	10. Kiss Aftermath

**Chapter 10**  
(Mandy POV)

When the people in the bar had started counting down, Mandy had actually been nervous. She and Brian had hooked up on Christmas, but nothing more had happened since that night. She supposed the fact that he had let her into the bar with her friends during business hours and kept giving her drinks all night might have been a good sign, but he could have just been doing that out of habit. So when they made eye contact with 30 seconds to spare until midnight and he motioned for her to come join him behind the bar, she actually felt fucking giddy. As the ball dropped, he held her face with both hands, whispered “Happy New Year, Mands,” and kissed her tenderly. It wasn't violent or lustful. It was sweet and passionate, and exactly what she needed to make all of her worries from the past week dissipate. 

Even when their kiss was over, Brian kept his hands on her face. He leaned his forehead against hers and Mandy wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. She smiled up at him and their moment was only broken when a lemon slice came flying through the air and hit Brian' head. He laughed and turned to look at the source of the projectile. 

“Cut that shit out and get me another beer!” Travis shouted at him. 

The next thing Mandy noticed was an angry Mickey walking into the bar. She hadn't even seen him leave, but she had admittedly been a little distracted. She watched as her brother walked to Sara and said something into the blonde's ear. Sara smiled at him, reached into her pocket, took out two pills and put one into each of their mouths. Mandy shook her head. Her friend could be a little crazy sometimes.

When Mickey and Sara started dancing together, Mandy walked out from behind the bar, joining them. It was rare to see her brother let loose and she didn't want to miss any of it. Sullivan's was crowded, so she didn't see Ian until he was standing right next to her. He reached out an arm and put it on Mickey's shoulder, but her brother spun around and shoved Ian's arm off. 

“Stay away from me, you fucking faggot,” Mickey shouted at Ian. He grabbed Sara by her forearm, said something to her that Mandy couldn't hear, and at the girl's happy nod, they walked away together to the storage room.

Confused, Mandy turned to look at Ian. It was only then that she saw his face was covered in blood. He obviously had a broken nose. “The fuck, Ian?” Ian looked at her with an expression that she couldn't quite understand. “What the hell just happened? Did Mickey do this to you?”

“I'm fine. I think I snapped it back into place.”

Mandy led Ian over to the edge of the bar and got a wet washcloth from Brian. She started cleaning off his face. “You are going to tell me what happened. Right. Now.” She hoped her tone would convey to Ian that she wasn't kidding. Ian flinched as she dabbed the washcloth against his nose, trying her best to get the blood off, some of which was already starting to dry. She could see the swelling was getting bad, so she motioned to Brian and got him to bring bass over a beer for Ian's face.

“Mandy, I'm fine. Please drop it.”

Mandy hit him in the back of the head. “You are not fine. Tell me what the hell is going on.”

Ian rubbed the back of his head where Mandy had smacked him. It hadn't been hard; she'd just needed to get her point across. He sat on the stool, holding the beer to his nose and not saying anything. Mandy let out an exasperated sigh. Why wasn't he just answering her? 

“I thought Mickey said he and Sara weren't together...” he said, looking off in the direction her brother and the blonde had walked away.

That wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear. There was such bitterness in Ian's voice.

Mandy's eyes suddenly widened as the realization dawned on her. Ian wasn't angry... he was _jealous._

“You like Mickey!” she shouted.

When Ian's eyes flew to meet hers in panic, she was already grinning. “Why didn't you tell me?” She punched Ian in the arm—hard.

She saw him relax a bit but there was still sadness on his face. “I've liked him for a while now. I thought... maybe... he liked me too. Things seemed normal again,” he reasoned. “He left the bar when the ball dropped... so I followed him out... and... I sort of kissed him.”

Mandy's jaw dropped. Her mouth was literally open.

“And I thought it was okay and I swear he was kissing me back but then I don't know what happened. He pushed me off... and punched me...”

Mandy had no words. She was utterly speechless. Ian let out a shuttering breath now that he had told her everything and when she looked at his face, she saw a small tear slowly slide down his cheek. She was still holding the damp cloth and she mutely brought it up to his face, wiping the tear away. She put her arms around him and gave him a hug, because that was all she could think to do. He hugged her back and she could feel him shaking as he tried to hold in his emotions. 

“Let's go home,” she said to him after they had sat like that for a few minutes. The bar was noisy and Ian looked exhausted, physically and emotionally. She said a quick goodbye to Brian, telling him she was going to take Ian home and would call him tomorrow. They walked she short distance to the apartment.

Mandy helped Ian get changed. His T-shirt was absolutely disgusting, covered in blood. “What time's your bus leaving tomorrow?” she asked.

“I should leave here at 9 to get to the station in time.”

They got into her bed, laying side by side. A few minutes passed in silence and Mandy wasn't sure if Ian had fallen asleep or not.

“I didn't know Mickey is gay,” she said, quietly. She heard him sniffle then.

“I don't think he knows it either,” Ian whispered. 

Then Ian gave Mandy a kiss on the cheek before putting an arm around her waist and going to sleep. She held him close as her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep too.


	11. Pills

**Chapter 11**  
(Mickey POV)

Mickey was pissed. All he wanted to do was enjoy the rest of the night. He walked back into Sullivan's and went directly to Sara. “I need an upper. What do you have?”

She smiled at him and dug into her pocket, producing two round pills—one pink and one yellow. They had different stamps on them. “How 'bout a Molly?” she suggested.

“Sounds good.”

Sara put one of the pills into Mickey's mouth and swallowed her own down with a swig of beer. “It should take about half an hour or so to kick in. Want to dance?”

 _Fuck it. Why not?_ Mickey thought. He moved away from the tables and towards the middle of the bar with the blonde right behind him, deciding he would do anything to distract himself. Mandy soon joined them too. They danced for a few songs. He supposed dancing wasn't so bad. It helped that the bar was crowded, so he didn't actually feel like he was being watched.

Everything was fine until he felt an arm touching his shoulder. He spun around and shoved the arm off, realizing that it was Gallagher. “Stay away from me, you fucking faggot,” Mickey instinctively shouted. He turned back to Sara and grabbed her by her forearm. “Wanna get out of here?” he asked the girl. She nodded enthusiastically and Mickey led her towards the storage room. As he was walking away, he saw Travis watching him from the bar and wondered if his friend had heard him. _Well, too fucking bad._

They walked downstairs, Mickey in the lead. “It's definitely been long enough. What do you have in mind?” she asked him gingerly.

He decided he didn't want to talk. He pushed her backwards until she was leaning against a wall of shelves. He turned her around so that her back was pressed against his chest. He didn't want her getting any ideas and trying to kiss him. “Oh, this is diff...” she started to say, but he covered her mouth with his hand. 

“Keep your mouth shut,” he ordered. Mickey was never more thankful for the fact that Sara was dressed like the crazy slut she was. She was wearing a sequined top over black tights and a too-short denim skirt. He slipped his free hand under her skirt and felt the dampness between her legs. He took his hand off her mouth slowly and hooked his thumbs onto either side of her tights, pulling them down her thighs. “No panties?” She shook her head and, putting his face against her cheek, Mickey whispered into her ear. “You're such a fucking slut.” He laughed when he felt her smile.

Mickey unzipped his pants and got a condom out from his wallet. He tore it open, slipped it on, and tossed the wrapper on the floor behind him. Grabbing Sara's hands, he lifted them over her head and made her clasp the shelf in front of her. He kept her hands there with one of his, using his other hand to line himself up and push his dick into her. He wasn't gentle by any means. He wanted a quick, hard fuck, and that was what he was going to get. He used his free hand to hold onto her waist, pushing her hips down so that he could ram deeper into her. Sara started moaning but Mickey didn't want to hear that shit. He let go of her waist and put his hand over her mouth again. He was very close and he wasn't going to let Sara ruin it. After a few more thrusts, Mickey slammed into Sara harder than he thought was possible, grunting loudly as he came. 

He pulled out quickly. “Now _that_ was fun,” Mickey said, repeated Sara's line from the previous time. Letting go of Sara, he tied off the condom and tossed it on the floor. The Molly was definitely starting to kick in. Mickey could feel his worries slipping away. Nothing mattered and he felt fucking great.

Sara turned around and pulled her tights up. “I know a house party that some idiot from school is throwing. We should go.”

Micky shrugged in acceptance and they made their way out of the bar and over to the party. He felt amazing.

The next morning he woke up in his bed with Sara beside him and he couldn't really remember how he'd actually made it home. The drug had hit it's peak at around 3am, but by then he and Sara had already gotten so drunk at that high school house party that things were blurry. He was sore all over, but he gritted his teeth and got up because his bladder was about to explode. He only realized that he and Sara were both naked when he was out of bed. Looking back at her, he noticed the bruises on her waist that he had no doubt made the previous night. He could see there were also marks starting to form around Sara's throat. _I tried choking her?_ Hmm.

Mickey rushed to the bathroom to relieve himself and then decided he could use a shower. Mandy was sitting in the kitchen when he was done. 

“What the hell happened last night, Mickey?”

“None of your fucking business, ass-face.” Mickey was feeling a lot better about the previous night after partying with Sara. He walked over to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup from the pot.

“Ian is my best friend, so it is my business. He left this morning and wouldn't even tell me if he was going to come back again.” Mandy scowled.

Mickey took a sip of the hot coffee. It burned his throat on the way down. He looked his sister dead in the eyes before shrugging his shoulders and muttering a low “Whatever...”

Apparently that was not the response Mandy had wanted. “You're such a fucking asshole,” she said, and then stormed out of the kitchen.

He sat down at the table nursing his coffee, waiting for it to cool a bit before taking another sip. He was still angry about Gallagher, but he just didn't seem to care much. Maybe this was another effect of the Molly. It had made him so happy and carefree last night, but that feeling had faded and now he just felt empty. He would have to ask Sara about that when she woke up, since she seemed to be the fucking drug expert around here.

It was a week later when Brian called Mickey during his afternoon nap. “Hey man, we need to talk...”

Mickey was still half asleep. “Hold on a sec.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What's going on?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Travis tried to kill himself last night.”

Mickey bolted upright. _“What?”_

“Yeah... He'd been staying on my couch for a while and we had a few beers last night before I went to sleep. When I woke up, he was unconscious and that stupid bottle of pills Sara had given me for Christmas was empty on the floor beside him. I called 911—they came, pumped his stomach, and then took him to the hospital. I've been here with him since this morning, but he hasn't woken up yet. The doctors are not sure how much damage all those different drugs did to him and they don't know how long he'll be out.” Brian sighed. 

“Listen...” he continued. “I'm calling because I really need your help. I have to get back home and check on my dad before my shift... make sure he hasn't choked on his own vomit or some shit... you know how he is lately...” Even though he couldn't see Brian at that moment, he was sure the big guy was worried. Mickey could hear the desperation in his voice. “Can you come by and stay with Travis? There's really nobody else I can ask. Just until I close up tonight—then I'll be back.”

“Mickey cleared his throat again. “Yeah man, no problem. I'll be there in like 20 minutes.” The hospital was pretty close by and all Mickey needed to do was put on some semi-decent smelling clothes.

Mickey called Brian when he got to the hospital. They met outside and smoked a couple of cigarettes. “Is he awake?” Mickey asked.

Brian shook his head. “I feel like a fucking idiot. I knew he'd been upset. I noticed that he was staying away from the bar a lot. He was looking for work because you know how rare finding a construction job can be in the winter. But still... I never expected this. I just didn't think Travis was the type.”

Mickey didn't know what to do. He wasn't the type to comfort anyone. He barely knew what to do with Mandy, and to be honest, that was half instinct because she was his sister. So he stood there next to Brian, smoking slowly in silence. 

Brian told him which room Travis was in and Mickey went to sit with their friend for the rest of that night. The room was shared, but he drew the curtain and sat in single chair beside the bed. It was quiet; the only noise was from the machines and monitors. He supposed it was a good sign that Travis was breathing on his own. All he could do was wait.

Mickey and Brian took turns staying with Travis. Mandy stopped by a couple of times, but never for too long. Despite the fact that they hadn't really spoken since New Years, Mickey knew that the real reason Mandy didn't stay was because seeing Travis in that state reminded her too much of when their mother had overdosed, but neither of them spoke about it. 

It wasn't until three days later that Travis finally woke up. Mickey was with him and it was a little after 3 in the morning. “So it looks like I can't do anything right...not even kill myself...” Travis whispered. Mickey's eyes snapped to the boy in the bed. He scowled at Travis. 

“That shit isn't funny, man.”

Travis laughed softly. “Yeah, I know... but it sort of is...”

Nobody said anything for a while. Mickey wondered if he should go get a nurse or something. He was about to get up and do just that when Travis spoke again. “My family won't speak to me. It was my little sister's tenth birthday, so I called to talk to her. My mom picked up... she was sobbing. Then my dad grabbed the phone, cursed me out a bit for being 'a homo' and finally hung up on me. I never even got to talk to Nicole. It's been two years.”

Travis hadn't explicitly told Mickey he was gay before. He wasn't sure if Travis knew that Brian had told them. This was the first time Travis had brought it up and Mickey wasn't sure what to say. “How long have you been gay?”

Travis looked at Mickey and cringed. “Always. Forever. I don't know. I never made a choice or anything. It's just who I am. I just knew. Know.”

Mickey thought about that for a minute before responding. “So is that why you did it? Because of your family?”

Travis shrugged. “My life is shit. I can't find any work. I'm alone. It just seemed like the easiest solution.”

They sat in silence again until the nurse came by in the morning. Brian was there when the doctor came by. After Travis' psych evaluation, they said they needed to hold him under 72 hour observation. 

After the three days, Travis came back to the apartment with Mickey to stay a few weeks on the couch. He and Brian had talked it over and decided that Brian's dad probably wouldn't help the situation at all. Space may have been limited with the Milkoviches, but the “environment” would be better. In any case, before his arrival, Mandy had helped to remove all the pills from the cabinets and knives and alcohol from the kitchen. She said it was better to be safe than sorry. She'd even talked to Sara about not coming by for a while, since the girl was a pharmacy.

Mickey knew that if Travis was determined enough, no amount of preparation would help... he would find a way... but he kept those thoughts to himself. Mandy was being a good sport about letting Travis stay over and he didn't really want to make her regret it. Plus, she was still being a little weird around Mickey.

The strange thing was that Mickey felt oddly comfortable around Travis. Once the guy had settled in, he was a pretty good roommate. They barely noticed he was there. Mickey had been worried that the guy's lack of personal hygiene would be a problem, but despite not showering often, Travis kept his little area by the couch pretty orderly. He even fucking washed the dishes. Mickey hadn't run the dishwasher since the guy had moved in.

Each afternoon, Mickey would sit on the couch in front of the TV after his shift at the diner. He and Travis would smoke a few cigarettes and talk about bullshit. It was actually relaxing—until on one of those afternoons, Travis decided to talk to him about Joey. 

“You know, he was my best friend. Second only to Brian. I met him at Rocky Horror back when I was in high school. He was the first gay friend I had. We talked about everything and he helped me come out to my family.” Mickey was avoiding looking at his friend at all costs. The ashtray Mandy had given him for Christmas suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world. 

Travis sighed and continued, “I had a crush on him from the start. His blonde hair still turns me on when I think about it. But, I didn't think he felt the same way about me. We got drunk on Thanksgiving and we hooked up. I mean, I'd hooked up with a few guys before him, but he was the first one I actually had feelings for. Real feelings. Not just physical attraction. Even though I knew he didn't feel that way about me, I convinced myself that all I needed to do was fuck him and everything would work out.”

They were silent and Travis took a puff from his cigarette. He could see from the corner of his eye that the boy's hand was shaking as he smoked. “I didn't think I'd lose my friend. I didn't think I'd feel so lost without him. I miss him. I'm all alone.”

Mickey made the mistake of looking up then. Travis' eyes were welling up with tears and Mickey hated it when people cried. Fucking hated it. He was about to tell his friend to man up--that was the plan—until Travis leaned over and hugged Mickey. He actually _hugged_ him. Mickey didn't know what to do. He was beyond uncomfortable. He didn't _hug._ So, he just sat there, waiting for it to be over. How long did hugs even last?

“I thought you would hate me too. I knew how uncomfortable you were when we went to Rocky Horror and I heard what you called your friend Ian on New Years Eve at the bar. I really thought you would freak out when you found out about me being gay.” And then, as if it couldn't have gotten any worse, Travis started crying. Mickey could feel the tears falling onto his shirt. 

Despite being the most uncomfortable he had been in his entire life, Mickey put his hand on Travis' shoulder and let the guy continue crying on him. He knew that eventually Travis would quit with the waterworks. 

Mickey became conscious of the fact that Travis was right, and surprised himself. Mickey _had_ freaked out at Rocky Horror, but Mandy had calmed him down. He had been thrown into an environment that was completely foreign to him. It wasn't his fault though; his father had engrained it in Mickey and his brothers to hate everything associated with being gay. But the fact that Travis was gay hadn't changed anything between them. He was still Mickey's friend, regardless of the fact that he was currently acting like the biggest pussy ever—a fact which Mickey was quick to share.

“Whatever man. Just stop acting like a fucking pussy,” he said, finally shoving Travis off of him. 

The boy laughed and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Sorry,” he muttered to Mickey, smiling as he straightened up on the couch.

They went back to watching TV then, however, Mickey still felt something awkward in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if it was because he felt bad for Travis' admission of feeling alone, or if it was the memory of his last words to Gallagher.


	12. Confrontation

**Chapter 12**  
(Mandy POV)

Things had changed since the new year had begun. For starters, they had a new tradition. Every Sunday night, they would go downstairs to have dinner at Mrs. Lombardi's. The woman knew how to cook like a true Italian. She would make enough lasagna to feed an army, and Mandy was actually starting to get attached to the little, old woman. Even her stupid cat. It was strange to have an adult care about her. She hadn't received any of that from her parents. Well, nothing that had lasted more than a few hours in between fixes. 

Mickey and Mandy would go down for dinner each weekend with Travis, Brian and Sara in tow. Mandy would always make the dessert contribution, surprising everyone because she was starting to enjoy baking. Travis would help her bake sometimes because he was basically living in their kitchen. She still squirmed a bit when she saw the boy's tongue, but tried hard not to make any comments about it. She knew he enjoyed the company as much as she enjoyed the help. 

Mrs. Lombardi didn't have any surviving relatives. She and her husband hadn't been able to have any kids, despite all their efforts. She and Mandy would talk often when Mandy got back from work and Mickey was already at the bar. Sometimes Travis would even join them, and Mrs. Lombardi loved the attention. She particularly loved showing them old photo albums and telling them about her husband. It was sweet.

One night, Sara stopped my the apartment when Mandy had finished her shift at the diner. Travis was already asleep on the futon so they went into Mandy's room and sat on her bed. Taking off her winter coat, Sara reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Got around to developing the pictures from Christmas,” she said, passing them over to Mandy.

Mandy flipped through the pictures. There were some great ones of her and Ian. After taking out the pictures she liked, she told Sara she'd be right back and left the envelope in her brother's room for him to look through them. She rejoined her friend on her bed. “I really need to figure out what to get Brian for Valentine's Day. It's so fucking close. It would be a lot easier if we hadn't just started dating...”

Sara shrugged. “You know the guy better than I do. I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

“Well, what are you getting Mickey?” she asked, hoping to get some ideas. This was also a good chance to see what was going on between Sara and Mickey, since the last time she had asked, she hadn't gotten any information from the girl.

“Why would I get him anything? He's not my boyfriend.”

Mandy looked at her friend while trying to hide her reaction. “No?” she asked carefully.

Sara laughed. “Definitely not. We just had fun a few times. We haven't hooked up since New Years... Although that _was_ a good night!”

Mandy winced. “ _Please_ don't talk to me about sleeping with my brother!”

“There wasn't much sleeping involved!” Sara countered. 

They laughed and Mandy hit Sara with her pillow while begging her friend to stop talking about it. 

“Hey, you brought it up!” Sara said, defensively. 

“Yeah, and I'm seriously regretting it!” When they calmed down, Mandy tentatively asked, “Is that why he's been acting so strange since then? Because you guys stopped hooking up? I thought it was because of what happened with Travis, but it really started a few days before that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know... He's just been different these last few weeks. Drinking more, acting angrier. I mean, it would be more weird if this wasn't exactly what Mickey had been like back in Chicago. But now it's coming back and I don't know how I feel about that. It's as if he's pissed at me about something.”

“Huh... Well, it's definitely not because of any feelings he has for me. We just fucked—no biggie. But sometimes that happens... Mollys give you such a good high that once they really wear off, you start feeling that happiness is missing from your life. It's rare, but it happens. He could be depressed. I'm sure having Travis moping around hasn't helped.”

Mandy thought about that for a while before coming to the conclusion that her new goal would be to make Travis feel better. She didn't think that would be selfish, since both boys would probably benefit from it. She decided it wasn't healthy for the guy to stay in the house day after day. 

Her first attempt to engage Travis was getting him to help her pick out a gift for Brian. Travis knew his friend so well, so it was a breeze once they got to the mall. Apparently Brian had a severe weakness for any chocolate with alcohol in it, so they found a box of those little bottle shaped chocolates with the liquor inside, and Travis paid so that the woman at the counter wouldn't give Mandy a hard time about being a teenager.

She then insisted that he meet them at the diner for lunch in the afternoons, always making him feel included. It was better than letting him veg out in front of the TV. Finally, she talked to Liz and got Travis a part-time job at the diner, working from mid-morning to late afternoon. Travis had agreed to it only when he had learned that his hours mostly overlapped with the end of Mickey's shift and the beginning of Mandy's, which meant that he wouldn't be alone. 

Many suspected that the only reason Liz had agreed was because the woman was pregnant yet again and didn't like dealing with the lunch crowd. Mickey had told her that Liz had even been thinking of quitting entirely, so when the opportunity of Travis taking half of her shift had presented itself, she had been more than willing to talk to the owner and get him the job.

A few days after Valentine's Day, Mandy called Ian. She wanted to see how he was doing and if his nose had healed well, but most of all, she wanted to relay what she had learned about Mickey from Sara. 

Mandy told Ian about Mickey's change in behavior but it surprised her when Ian didn't really seem to care about the news. In fact, he seemed really bummed during their entire phone call. She had hesitated before telling Ian that Sara had said she and Mickey had only hooked up a couple of times and that things between them had been pretty much over since New Years, but not even that had seemed to make Ian feel any better. 

Ian told Mandy that he was keeping himself busy with ROTC. He needed to raise his grades if he wanted to get into West Point, so his brother Lip was tutoring him. They talked about what Mandy and Brian had done for Valentine's Day. Ian mentioned some Asian kid named Ralph from ROTC that he had fucked under the bleachers and Mandy nearly choked on her gum. The conversation didn't really have anywhere else to go after that so Mandy had promised to call Ian again soon.

Brian and Mandy had been spending a lot of time together. He was over at the apartment all the time because going back to his house was not an option since his dad was drinking more than ever. Honestly, she loved the fact that their apartment was crowded now. 

Mandy didn't mention that she was used to living with a drunk. Terry was probably worse than Mr. Sullivan could ever be. She never mentioned her old life to Brian, and, thankfully, he never asked her about it. This was Mandy's first relationship besides the fake one she had had with Ian. She didn't want to fuck it up by having him learn about her screwed up family.

Before Mandy knew it, spring break was around the corner. 

They were all sitting in their usual booth at the diner. Travis was on his break and Sara had just told them that she was going to California for the holiday. Her dad wanted her to spend time with him, her step-mom and her half siblings in Los Angeles. Everyone had been chatting except Mickey. Mandy was really fucking tired of his mood. After Sara left, Mandy decided to confront Mickey.

“It's enough, okay?”

Mickey had been pushing some mashed potatoes around on his plate, when he realized she was talking to him and put the fork down slowly. “Since when do you give a shit if I play with my food?” he asked her.

“You know that's not what I mean, Mickey.” She looked at Travis for help but he raised his hands up and shook his head. “I don't know what's gotten into you. You've been so... _mopey..._ I'm so sick of this shit.” Mickey didn't look at her. He didn't respond. He just shrugged his shoulders. Travis got up and went back to work, taking Mickey's plate with him. 

“I'm going to invite Ian to come visit again, for Spring Break,” she said. That got his attention. Mickey's head shot up. She huffed in response. “I know that you know he's gay,” she muttered. His eyes widened as he stared at her, still silent. 

“I also know that Travis came out to you. Brian told me.” She looked back at the counter where Travis was standing and she was smiling when she turned back to face Mickey. “You two seem to be okay, so I'm going to trust you to be nice to Ian when he's here... And if your homophobic ass ever hits him again,” she adds, “I will not hesitate to cut you in your sleep.” With that, Mandy left to join Travis, leaving Mickey at the table with just his thoughts for company.

Mandy hoped that their talk had had some kind of effect on Mickey. She was thinking about it the whole time she was working. She wondered why her brother was so bothered by Ian being gay even though he seemed so comfortable around Travis. Could it be possible that Mickey really _was_ gay? Did he have feelings for Ian? When her best friend had told her what had happened outside of Sullivan's that night, she had had her doubts. She had convinced herself that Ian was wrong... that he had only talked himself into believing that Mickey was gay because of his own crush on her brother... but maybe there _was_ something there. Why else would Mickey have been acting this way for the last few months? It started after the kiss. She was sure of it now. 

She got through her shift and called Ian as soon as she got home. She had to work hard to persuade him to come. She pleaded with him, telling him it had been three months since she'd last seen him and that she couldn't take it any longer. He had finally given in, deciding to tell his sister Fiona that he was going on an ROTC retreat for the week. Ian complained about having to work some extra shifts to afford a last minute bus ticket, and Mandy just laughed at his objections, saying that if she had given him more notice, he would have found an excuse to not come.  
Her mood now lifted with the prospect of her friend's imminent visit, Mandy went to the bar that night at closing time to meet up with Brian. 

“Hey baby!” he said to her when he saw her walk in. She smiled from ear to ear as he embraced her and gave her a sweet kiss. 

“I have the best news,” she excitedly told him. “I talked to Ian today and he agreed to come visit next week for the break!”

“Oh, that's great. Maybe it will lighten Mickey up too.” Mandy hadn't told Brian about any of the shit that was going on with her brother, but it was obvious to everyone that he had had something on his mind lately. 

“Yeah, maybe...” was all she could think to say. 

“Well, if that doesn't, then his promotion will,” Brian continued.

Mandy knew that Brian had been planning on making Mickey a bartender as soon as he legally could. They had talked about it when she'd mentioned Mickey's 18th birthday was coming up, but she had convinced Brian to keep it a surprise. In the meantime, she had been helping him look at college applications. She felt so proud the first time he had mentioned it. Her boyfriend wanted to get a degree! He had confessed to her that he never saw himself working at the bar every night. It was a fine job for now, but even as a teenager, he had hoped to take over running Sullivan's from his father in more of a managerial capacity. Brian hoped that getting a business degree would help his old man hand it over sooner rather than later, and Mandy had been trying to support Brian in any way that she could, even if that ended up being filling out applications and financial aid paperwork with him for nights on end.

“So when do you think I should talk to him about it?” Brian asked her, breaking her train of thought.

“I want to throw a little party for Mickey. Can we do it here? It'll be a Sunday night so it's not that busy. You can surprise him with the news then.”

“Sure thing, baby.”

Mandy grinned at him as she walked to join the rest of their friends at their table in the back. She had the best boyfriend ever.


	13. Spring Break

**Chapter 13**  
(Mickey POV)

Sara had told him why she thought he was feeling so low, but Mickey wasn't so sure. Would the side effects of a drug last this long? That was just ridiculous. 

He went about his routine as usual. Diner, sleep, bar, sleep. Rinse and repeat. He didn't even need an alarm anymore. The pattern was so normal to him now. He found that he would automatically wake up after a few hours of sleep. 

He liked having Travis around. He never expected Mickey to do anything but sit with him. Travis would talk and talk, and Mickey could just sit with a cold beer in one had and his cigarette in the other. It was easy.

Mandy was spending a lot of time with Brian. Mickey was glad things were working between them. He was also glad that Mandy was distracted. She hadn't hassled him in a while... until that afternoon in the diner. He didn't even know where his thoughts had been... One minute he was in his own little bubble, and the next, his sister had poked that bubble. She'd told him that she wanted to invite Gallagher to NY for Spring Break.

He had wanted to stop listening to her. To just tune her out... 

“I know that you know he's gay,” she had said. 

He couldn't do anything but stare at her. 

Then she had threatened to hurt him if he ever hit Ian again, and she had gone to start her shift, leaving him alone.

He didn't know what had happened to the rest of his day. The days all started to blend together again. Diner, sleep, bar, sleep. Diner, sleep, bar, sleep.

Until the Saturday afternoon that Gallagher arrived. Mickey was already at the bar when Mandy walked in with the redhead in tow. Mickey was drying the bartop with a rag when he saw them. He had to do a double take. This was Ian Gallagher? How could he have changed so much in just three months? His hair had been buzzed short, and had changed from the dark red Mickey remembered to more of an orange color. He had grown taller too—at least 5 more inches, he guessed. The most drastic change, however, had to be his physique. When the redhead took off his jacket, his green t-shirt was actually stretched tight by his biceps. Mickey's gaze lingered on Ian's muscles for a while before he realized he was staring and resumed wiping down the bar. 

“Hi baby,” Mandy said to Brian before giving him a small kiss.

“Hey man, welcome back to NY,” Brian said in greeting to Ian. The two teens sat at the bar to chat for a few minutes as Brian gave them both sodas. Mickey smirked to himself thinking that it served Mandy right for showing up in the middle of the day; soda was all Brian would dare to serve them while the bar was actually open. 

“Ian and I stopped by the apartment so that he could drop off his stuff. We're gonna go catch a movie later tonight and probably get dinner while we are out.” 

Mickey went downstairs to get a few bags of ice. He lingered in the storage room for a few minutes. When he went back up with the ice on his shoulders, it looked like his sister was ready to leave.

“Call me when you finish work?” Mandy asked her boyfriend.

“Sure thing. You two have fun,” he said in farewell.

Mandy turned to go, but Ian kept looking at the bar, as if waiting for some sort of recognition from Mickey. Mickey could actually feel Ian's eyes on him, locked in anticipation. When Mickey finally looked up, he was ready to see Gallagher's familiar smile, but all that greeted him was a cold stare. Ian's green eyes flashed with something akin to anger before he spun to follow Mandy out the door.

 _I guess he's still pissed..._ Mickey thought that was a shame since it hadn't even been a hard punch. Seriously, the beating he'd given the redhead during the pregnancy misunderstanding had been ten times worse. Mickey sighed and went back to work.

When he got home that night, the door to Mandy's room was shut. He couldn't help himself as he quietly opened it and took a peek inside. Ian and Mandy were sprawled on her bed, fast asleep. He shut the door and walked to the kitchen. Travis was sitting on the couch watching TV. Mickey sat down next to him, knowing that his friend wasn't planning on sleeping anytime soon because the futon wasn't open. The silence was comfortable.

Eventually Mickey decided to go to sleep. He closed the door to his room behind him and got into bed, trying not to think about Gallagher. He didn't care that the kid was now taller than him. He didn't care that his hair was a few shades more dull or that his freckles had faded. He didn't think about the look of hatred in the boy's eyes when they had looked at each other at the bar that night, or how hungry Mickey was to touch the redhead's arms and feel his new muscles flex under his grip. No, he didn't think about that at all. He pulled a pillow over his head and went to sleep, not thinking about Gallagher. Right.

~

_It was New Years Eve again and Ian had Mickey pinned against the brick wall of the alley behind Sullivan's._

_Ian pushed his lips against Mickey's. He ran his tongue along Mickey's closed mouth, eliciting a moan from the older boy, and when his lips parted with the moan, Ian's tongue gently slipped into Mickey's mouth. Gallagher's tongue was so warm and he tasted so sweet. Without even thinking, Mickey automatically slid his hands under the back of Ian's shirt, pulling them closer. The boy's soft skin felt so hot even though it was freezing outside._

_Their bodies were flush. Mickey's erection was pressing against Ian's thigh, but even through their jeans, he could feel that Ian had one too. That realization shocked Mickey back to reality. He abruptly shoved Ian away from him and punched him in his face. He thought he felt bone cracking, and when he looked at Ian's bloody nose, he was sure he had broken it._

_“Kiss me again and I'll cut your fucking tongue out,” he whispered to Ian, just loud enough that he was sure the redhead heard him. Mickey turned around and walked back to the bar._

~

Mickey's heart was racing when he woke up the next morning. That dream... that same fucking dream, _again._ He was sick of it. Sick of the twisting feeling he felt in his stomach each and every time he woke up from it, which was pretty fucking often. He'd had the dream practically every night since Mandy had told him that Gallagher was coming back. He looked down at his right hand and flexed it. He could still feel the crunch of bone as his knuckles connected with Gallagher's nose. The memory made him shudder. 

The apartment was empty when he actually picked his lazy ass up out of bed. He had some coffee and pop tarts, then took a long shower and shaved before going to work. He went about the day as usual, not really talking to anyone, but nodding or shaking his head when it seemed expected of him. Before he knew it, the night was over.

“Hey man, before you go, can you get another two cases of Guinness from downstairs?” 

Mickey nodded to Brian and went to get the beer. The lights were off when he came back upstairs. Fuck, had Brian locked up without him? 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Brian?” he muttered.

The lights turned on suddenly as everyone shouted: “SUPRISE!” 

“Oh,” was Mickey's only response. He'd forgotten about his birthday. He put the two cases of beer down on the ground beside the stairs and had to endure hugs from their friends as they all wished him happy birthday. He finally was able to spot Mandy and he walked over to her. “This was all your doing, wasn't it?” he demanded.

His sister just grinned in response. She put her arms around his neck, gave him a kiss on the cheek and said “Happy Birthday,” softly into his ear. For the first time that night, Mickey hugged someone back.

Breaking their little moment, Brian came over and wrapped his big arms around both Milkoviches, crushing the air out from their lungs. “Happy Birthday, bro! And congrats!”

Mickey looked up at Brian, confused. “Congrats? For what? Surviving this long?” he asked, squirming out of Brian's bear hug.

“For your promotion, ass-face,” Mandy replied, shoving his shoulder. 

“You made me wait this whole time to tell him and then you get broke the news? That's just bullshit, baby,” Brian said to Mandy. His sister shrugged, still smiling. 

“So yeah, man, you're 18 now. You can be a bartender now, just like I told you when I hired you last year. You can start by taking over some of my shifts... Eventually all of them, I hope!” Brian said to Mickey. 

Brian went to the bar and brought over a tray of shots. Mickey raised the glass to his lips and just as he was about to swallow the shot, he saw Gallagher watching him from his spot against the far wall. Travis was there talking to the redhead, but Ian's eyes were locked on Mickey again. Mickey watched him as he downed the shot and chased it down right away with two more. Gallagher finally shook his head and turned his attention back to Travis.

 _Who the fuck does he think he is for judging me?_ Mickey decided he wasn't going to let Gallagher ruin his birthday, even if he had completely forgotten about it. Mickey was going to have fun tonight. 

He proceeded to do just that, starting with the joint Mandy procured from out of her pocket. “Birthday gift from Sara,” she explained. Typical. Mickey grinned and lit it up, taking a couple of hits before passing it to his sister. 

At one point during the party, Mandy and Travis brought out a birthday cake that they had baked from scratch for Mickey. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, covered with crushed snickers bar pieces, because it was sweet, just how Mickey liked it.

They laughed, they drank, they smoked. Mickey thought that at some point, they even danced. Everyone eventually said goodnight and left, until it was just the five of them left. Brian locked up, saying Tom had offered to clean the place up tomorrow. That suited Mickey just fine since he was in no condition to help. Mandy and Brian walked ahead, with Travis and Ian following.

Mickey reached into his pocket for a cigarette and realized he was all out. “Hey guys, I need to swing by 7-11. I'll meet you at the apartment,” he shouted to them. He turned and started walking in the opposite direction as best as he could. He had definitely drank his fill. Milkoviches are no light-weights, but Mickey was unmistakeably drunk.

He bought a pack and leaned against the outside of the 7-11. It was still chilly outside, enough to still need a jacket, but Mickey was thankful it hadn't snowed in a while. Chicago wouldn't have been so kind to him in the middle of March. He lit a cigarette using his Zippo and noticed a movement in the corner of his eye. Focusing on the spot, since everything was fucking blurry to him, he swore he saw a blur of red.

“I can fucking see you!” he shouted. It was a lie, but he did see something.

Ian stepped out from his hiding spot around the corner of the convenience store.

“What, are you here to babysit me?” Mickey demanded. “I don't need a fucking babysitter, especially not you, Gallagher.”

Ian's walked closer, but stopped a few feet away from Mickey, not responding to the question.

Mickey finished his cigarette and lit another. He pushed himself off the wall, stood still for a moment to regain his balance, and then started walking home. Ian followed behind him. Mickey wasn't sure how he made it home and up the stairs, but he did it by himself, despite at an achingly slow pace. He passed Mandy's room and saw that the door was closed again. He walked past his own room and went into the kitchen. Travis was already asleep. How far behind had he been if everyone was already asleep? 

He quietly went to the fridge and opened the door. Glancing behind him, he saw Ian leaning against the door frame. Mickey took out two beers and passed one to Ian. They moved into the hallway to not wake up Travis, even though Mickey wasn't sure they were even going to speak. Gallagher hadn't said a word to him in the two days since he'd arrived in NY. That hadn't stopped him from keeping eye contact with Mickey though. He'd been glaring at him every single time Mickey had looked up to find the redhead.

Mickey wanted to apologize to the boy, but he didn't know how to start. He had never apologized for anything before—at least, not willingly. Ian was just watching him, and it was making Mickey very uneasy. He finished his beer and dropped the can on the floor of the hallway. He thought of making a clever comment about Ian's nose but couldn't think of anything witty enough. It had healed perfectly. Of course it had. Ian's face was flawless.

Finally he sighed. He couldn't do it. 

“Looks like all the beds are taken,” Mickey said, motioning to Mandy's closed door. He looked back at Ian and saw the boy's expression change to one that clearly said 'no shit'. 

“You can stay with me.” 

That was as much of an apology as Mickey could handle. Gallagher would understand... he hoped.

He turned and walked towards his room, leaning against the side of the hallway for support. He took off his shirt and jeans and plopped onto one side of his bed, lying on his stomach, as usual. He turned his head to the side and watched as Gallagher walked into the room and closed the door. The boy followed suit, casually getting undressed.

Ian gently sat down on the bed with his back to Mickey, and he knew the boy wanted to say something. Mickey could practically feel the battle going on inside of Ian, could almost hear him debating with himself about whether or not he should say something. Mickey let out a soft chuckle, which caused Ian to turn and glare at him, yet again. 

Ian ultimately decided not to say a thing. He got into bed and faced the opposite direction from Mickey, laying on his side. Mickey wordlessly tossed half of the blanket over the redhead's body.

Mickey wanted to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he felt the room start to spin. He kept one arm on the side table to stabilize him, and kept his eyes open. He wasn't sure how much time passed like that, but he must have eventually fallen asleep. 

Mickey opened his eyes slowly a few hours later. The first thing he realized was that he hadn't had that awful dream again. For the first time in a long time, Mickey actually felt rested. A bit hungover, but rested. The second thing he noticed was that Gallagher's arm was draped across his back, effectively pinning him down to the bed. His arm was warm against Mickey's bare back, particularly in the cold room. 

His first instinct was to push the redhead off of him. Mickey wasn't sure what made him resist that urge. Maybe it was because he felt somewhat comfortable...

Looking at the clock, Mickey saw that he only had an hour left before his shift started at the diner. He grabbed his phone from the table and one handedly typed out a text message to Liz, trying his best not to move too much, so as not to wake the sleeping Gallagher. 

[ **6:12am Mickey:** Hungover. Can't come in. Get Travis to cover.]

He hit send.

He fought off going back to sleep right away, and waited. A few minutes later, he heard Travis' phone start ringing in the kitchen. Smiling, Mickey put his cell back down and closed his eyes again. His headache wasn't that bad considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed. 

If he happened to inch back a little to lie against Ian's body, he blamed it on the fact that the room was cold and that Ian had stolen most of the blanket. He'd gotten closer to Ian subconsciously, of course. 

He fell asleep rather quickly after that.


	14. Knuckles

**Chapter 14**  
(Mickey POV)

Mickey woke up the morning after his birthday feeling refreshed. He still hadn't had the dream again. He looked at the clock and saw that it was nearing noon. He could still feel the heat from Gallagher's body against his back and side. Mickey decided not to move. He was still on his stomach, on the far side of the bed, facing away from Gallagher and the door. He was still pinned down by the arm draped across his back. He laid perfectly still, and thought about what this meant, if it meant anything at all. 

Mickey fucked girls. It wasn't difficult. He just did it. He enjoyed sex. So that meant he was straight. Didn't it? Although, he never really cared much for their tits... and he always enjoyed it more when he didn't have to look at their faces... and he hated kissing... 

Except that kiss with Gallagher had been different. He gently shook his head to clear it.

Why was get getting erections when thinking about Gallagher? Why did he dream about that night he broke the redhead's nose over and over? Why did it hurt so much when he thought about hurting Ian? And why did it feel so good to be lying next to him now? The boy had always had a calming effect on Mickey in the past. Was this just an extension of that feeling?

Mickey's heart rate had been steadily climbing as he ran through everything in his head. What would this mean? What would his family think? His father would kill him, if his brothers didn't get to him first. Then he realized where he was. His family wasn't anywhere near him. The only person that mattered to him was Mandy, and she seemed to have no fucking problem with Travis or Ian. Hell, she'd known about Ian for over a year now. Would she hate Mickey as much as he hated himself? He was her big brother. That made things different.

His thoughts were racing by, but they came to a sudden halt when he felt Ian move behind him. He could unmistakeably feel an erection against his thigh. _You've got to be kidding me..._

Still frozen, Mickey thought about what he could do. Questions of his sexuality aside, what he did know for sure was that he was uncomfortable now and wanted this awkward moment to be over. He only had two options: wait for Gallagher to wake up, or get out of bed. 

Mickey cleared his throat loudly and turned to his side, effectively dropping Ian's arm so that it was only resting against him and no longer splayed out across him. He waited silently as he felt Ian begin to stir. He heard the change in the redhead's breathing as he woke up and took in his surroundings. Ian suddenly lifted his arm and shifted back in the bed. He must have realized he had a boner poking against Mickey. He was sure that Gallagher didn't know what to do, just as much as he himself didn't know what to do. Mickey just laid there, pretending to still be asleep, trying to keep his breathing slow and steady. He felt the boy's eyes on him, watching. Then the bed moved again as Ian swung his legs over the side of the mattress and got up.

It wasn't until the door closed that Mickey finally moved. He rolled onto his back and stared at the door, as if he'd somehow find the answers to his questions in the wood if he looked hard enough. When he heard the shower go on, he decided to get up and get some coffee. Maybe some Tylenol too, although his head didn't hurt half as much as it should.

Mandy wasn't home when he passed her room. The door was open but there was no one on the unmade bed. He turned on the cheap coffee machine they had bought when they'd first moved in, making sure to fill it with enough water to make two cups. He sat at the table, waiting. A few minutes later, he poured the coffee into a pair of mismatched mugs and set them down. He heard the water shut off and watched the door, waiting for Gallagher.

“Hey,” Mickey said when the boy finally walked out, towel around his waist. Mickey fought to tear his eyes away from the curve of Ian's hips and the droplets of water still on his abs. He looked up at his Ian's green eyes, waiting, hoping. He wasn't sure if Ian was going to respond. It had dawned on him sometime that morning that Ian still hadn't said anything to Mickey.

Ian surveyed the room and noticed the coffee on the table. He walked over and sat at the seat across from Mickey, suspiciously eyeing the mug. He looked up the the boy and finally replied, “Hey.”

He wasn't sure if the redhead felt it, but the sudden release of tension in the room was palpable to Mickey. 

They sat quietly drinking their coffee. “Missed ya,” Mickey said after a few minutes had passed. He just had to get it out. Had he really felt so empty before?

“You did?” Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, man.”

Ian smiled then. It was the first genuine smile Mickey had seen on the boy in a long time—maybe since Christmas. It made him feel proud; Mickey had been the cause of that smile.

“Don't you have work?”

“Nah, not 'til 8 tonight. Travis is covering for me at the diner. Where's my sister? Don't you two have a fun, jam-packed week planned?”

Ian pulled a face. “I have no idea. I should check my phone; she might have texted.”

He got up and went to Mickey's room. “She said she went to work early to help Travis out!” Ian called from down the hall. His voice was coming from Mandy's room now. Mickey put the empty mugs into the dishwasher and walked out to find Ian. 

He was already dressed and was bending down to rummage through his duffel bag. Mickey couldn't understand why, but he really wanted to keep the redhead talking. Maybe it was as simple as him not wanting that deafening silence to return. “Looks like we have some time to kill,” he said. Then his stomach grumbled. “Hungry?”

Ian was distracted. He finally found what he was searching for. He pulled out the beige hoodie that Mickey had gotten him at Christmas and put it on over his t-shirt. Mickey was feeling very pleased with himself.

“We can walk to Cherry Valley and pick something up,” he pressed when Ian still hadn't answered him.

“Sure, Mick. You should probably get dressed first though,” Gallagher said, motioning to Mickey's torso. He looked down and realized he was still in only his boxers. He smirked at the redhead.

“Yeah, smart-ass. Thanks for the tip.”

Mickey first went back to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and wash his face. Then he changed his boxers and put on a clean pair of jeans, shirt, sweater and socks. He found one of his boots in the corner of the bedroom under yesterday's pile of clothes and the other in the hallway, next to a crushed beer can, which he promptly threw away.

“How are you functioning today?” Ian asked him. 

Mickey turned around and grinned at him. “I'm a Milkovich,” he said, as if that explained everything. “Come on, I fucking love this deli. Brian took me to it for the first time a few weeks ago and I've been hooked. They're open 24/7 and the best part is that they will put gravy on _anything_ you want. And their disco fries...” Mickey moaned, thinking about the delicious fries with gravy and melted mozzarella cheese...

They got their sandwiches and fries, walked back to the apartment and sat on the couch to eat. Ian got up and brought two beers over from the fridge. Mickey turned the TV and was flipping through the channels when Gallagher yelled, “Wait! Stop! Go back!” 

Mickey went back a few channels and raised an eyebrow when he realized what show Ian wanted to watch. “Deadliest Catch? You're serious?”

“Yeah man. Haven't you ever watched it?”

Mickey shrugged. He didn't want to admit that he would never have been caught dead watching a show on the Discovery Channel, much less a show about fishing.

“This show is the shit. I watch it with my brothers and sisters all the time. You know, someone gets hurt in almost every episode...” Ian took a huge bite of his sandwich and Mickey smirked when a glob of gravy dripped down his chin. He knew perfectly well the only way to eat a sandwich from Cherry Valley was with reckless abandon, and he loved that Ian wiped his face with the back of his hand and then licked it off. Only pussies used napkins.

The show wasn't bad. They finished their lunch halfway through the second episode, and just as Ian had promised, someone got hurt. The deck boss of one of the boats slipped and got his finger stuck between a launcher and an 800-pound crab pot. He lost the tip of his finger—it completely got severed off, below the nail. They were out in the middle of the fucking ocean, and even though they found the piece of his finger, everyone knew there was no way they would be able to reattach it. All they could do was stop the bleeding and bandage him up.

“He has tattoos where you do,” Ian said as he gently pressed his fingertips on Mickey's knuckles. The unexpected physical contact scared Mickey, but he only tensed up. Despite all of his instincts which told him to recoil, he didn't move. Mickey looked down at their hands. The electricity he felt where Ian's fingertips connected with his skin was what really had surprised him.

What Mickey regretted was the way Ian had flinched after realizing what he'd done. Gallagher quickly withdrew his hand and looked away. Mickey was conscious of a sudden emptiness; his hand felt cold where there had once been an unimaginable warmth.

“Relax, Firecrotch. I'm not gonna hit you. Mandy would probably cut my balls off if I even thought about it.”

Gallagher looked back at Mickey and studied his face. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like much longer. “So...” Ian started, hesitantly. “You... you don't... you don't care? That I'm... gay?”

He'd said it. He'd told Mickey he was gay. Mickey didn't think he ever really would have said it. Especially not after Mickey had called him a “fucking faggot” in front of everyone at the bar. _The kid actually has a pair..._ Mickey thought. “No,” Mickey replied. It was simple, final, and honest. Then, just like it had with Travis after his confession, Mickey's curiosity got the better of him. “Are you sure?” he asked. “About being gay, I mean,” he clarified.

Ian's response was quick. “Yeah, Mick. I'm fucking sure.”

Mickey tried to let that settle for a minute, but he still had questions. “But... how can you be sure? Have you ever had sex with a girl, just to see if you liked it?”

“Have you ever had sex with a dude just to see if you liked it?” Ian countered. Mickey made a face as Ian chuckled. “I had this same conversation with Lip once, after he got his slutty girlfriend Karen give me head. He suggested I just 'throw it in a girl' and see what happens. No thanks...” Ian was still laughing a little.

“Sex is great, though...” Mickey was still trying to understand.

“Yeah, it is great,” Ian agreed. “I just have it with guys instead of girls.”

Mickey really didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. 

Starting that night, Brian began training Mickey behind the bar. He told him that the bartending courses that were offered by the various schools in the city were a complete waste of money and that all Mickey really needed was to learn his shit and get an ABA certification.

Ian and Mandy hung out in the mornings and when Mickey finished at the diner, he found himself sacrificing his afternoon nap just to chill with the redhead. He was only there for the rest of the week, after all. Why let him waste his vacation sitting around and waiting for Mandy to finish her shift? 

One such afternoon, they had gone to a pool hall in Flushing. Mickey liked it because it was cheap and the Koreans that owned it didn't give a shit about serving alcohol to minors. Mickey still had his brother's ID, but he wasn't sure if Ian had one. He didn't bother asking. 

“How do you find people to fuck?” Mickey suddenly asked. He hadn't meant to just blurt it out like that, but he had been thinking about it for the last couple of days. Their neighborhood was not someplace you could just go announcing that you were gay—not if you wanted to be alive the next day. Mickey had wondered how Ian had met anyone else gay, let alone been able to confront them and start anything up.

Ian seemed to understand the question without any explanation on Mickey's part. “Well, the last time that my mom showed up, she took me to a gay bar downtown. She said I wouldn't have any trouble getting in without her, since young guys like me were the 'bread and butter' of the place. She said they needed 'fresh meat like me to keep the old guys coming in.'”

Mickey choked. “You went to a gay bar with your mom?”

Ian blushed. “Uhh, yeah. She's bipolar. When she's on her meds, she kinda becomes a dyke,” he admitted. “Anyway, she knew about this place and took me. We danced and had a pretty decent time. I didn't meet anyone that night, but she was completely right. The next time I went back alone, I had no trouble getting in.”

Mickey leaned down and line up his shot. “So you just go to this bar and pick up random guys?” He missed the pocket barely and sighed in frustration.

Ian cleared his throat. He seemed nervous and Mickey had no idea why. “Well, not really. I mean, when I went back that first time, I met this guy Lloyd and I've been seeing him a lot since then.”

That surprised Mickey. What did that mean? He leaned against the pool table and but his lower lip. 

“So what are you, like boyfriend and girlfriend or something?”

Ian shook his head. “No, not exactly.” He shoved Mickey out of the way to take his next shot. “He's sort of married.” Ian sunk next two shots perfectly.

“Married? How old is this fucking guy?” Mickey pressed. He wasn't sure why he was getting so riled up.

“Why's it matter?”

Mickey shrugged. “Just curious.”

Ian eyed him carefully before answering. “I don't know... maybe 50 or something?” He looked over the table to find his best (and probably last) shot. “8 ball, corner pocket,” he muttered, nodding his head towards the back right pocket. Mickey wasn't watching the table. His thoughts were stuck on what Gallagher had just told him. He was basically fuck buddies with some old guy. But why did that even bother Mickey? The clack as the cue ball connected with the 8 ball brought Mickey's attention back to the game and he looked up just in time to see the ball disappear into its designated pocket.

“Fuck.”

“That's three in a row, Mick. Why'd you bring me here if you suck at pool so much?” Ian teased. 

Mickey took a sip of his Jack and Coke, deciding to keep his mouth shut instead of answering the redhead. He'd probably say something really fucking stupid out of anger, and he was making an effort to be civil to the kid. He took a deep breath. “Shut the fuck up, Firecrotch. Let's go again.”

Mickey actually won the next three games and tied the count. It looked like all he needed was a little motivation, and anger worked wonders. It was too bad he had to get to the bar soon, otherwise he was sure he could have beaten Gallagher for the last game and wiped that smile off his face. Mickey was a sore loser, but when he thought about it on their walk back to the apartment, he wasn't sure if he was pissed entirely because of the game. It was more of what Ian had said about sleeping with the married guy. 

The next few days passed without incident and Mickey pretty much avoided bringing up anything that would lead to more conversations about Ian's sex life. The night before Ian had to leave, he, Mandy and Travis stopped by the bar after closing for a few drinks. Mickey had just finished cleaning up and was exhausted. Going a whole week with only getting half of his regular amount of sleep was finally catching up with him, regardless of the fact that the few hours of sleep he got each night were now actual, uninterrupted, nightmare-free sleep. He saw that their group was only getting started for the night, but he could barely keep his eyes open. It was a good thing he didn't have to be at the diner the next day.

“Sorry guys, but I really gotta get some sleep. Maybe next time,” he said, trying to placate Brian and Mandy. He got his hoodie and walked back to the apartment briskly. It was still cold out.

When he got upstairs, he realized he was too stressed to sleep. Maybe he shouldn't have left? He felt like there was so much he wanted to say to Ian, but couldn't get himself to talk about any of it. He was sitting on the couch in the kitchen, smoking his third or fourth cigarette, when he heard the upstairs door open. Ian eventually popped his head into the room. “Hi... I thought you left so you could sleep.” Ian sat down beside him and took the cigarette out of Mickey's fingers, then took a puff.

Mickey let him keep it, taking out another one from his pack for himself. When Gallagher had finished it, he lifted the pack and offered him another. Ian took it and then grabbed Mickey's out of his mouth, using its lit end to light his own. _Jerk could have just asked for my lighter,_ Mickey thought. He grabbed it back when he saw Ian didn't need it anymore. 

It was really bothering him—thinking about Ian being with someone who was more than twice the kid's age. Someone married. Did Mickey have any right to be upset though? Why should he care? Gallagher was his friend, he reasoned. He looked over at Ian and saw that the redhead was smiling again, rolling the cigarette in his fingers in between puffs. It was the same fucking grin that he only used when he knew he did something that would piss Mickey off and was waiting for Mickey's reaction.

Mickey's phone beeped before he had a chance to respond.

[ **2:34am Mandy:** i'm bringin brian over. can ian sleep in ur room w/ u?]

“Looks like you're out of a bed again,” he said to Gallagher. “Mandy just texted that Brian's spending the night.” He showed Ian the message and then typed back a response.

[ **2:34am Mickey:** ya. whatever.]

“You don't mind?” Ian was looking at Mickey with a bit of worry in his eyes.

Mickey shrugged. “No. I don't have to be at the diner tomorrow, so I can sleep in. I'm beat.” He got up and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. He got up and walked to his room, already undressing. Ian followed suit. They got into the bed, and Mickey noted that Ian was keeping to the edge of the bed. He wondered if Gallagher was still afraid he'd hit him or something.

“What time's your bus?” Mickey asked, lying on his back with his hands behind his head.

“It leaves at 3 tomorrow afternoon, but from the Port Authority. I'll take the 7 train into the city.”

“Is Mandy going with you?”

“I'm not sure... Actually, I think she might be working. She mentioned something about covering for Liz because one of her kids is sick.”

Mickey wasn't sure what got into him when he replied: “I'll go.” He regretted the offer right away; however, the words were already out. He tried not to look at Gallagher but couldn't help himself. He saw the boy's smile in the dim moonlight coming in from the window and felt his lips begin to curl up in response. 

Why the hell did it make him so happy to see Ian smile? Mickey turned over onto his stomach and was asleep in 2 minutes flat, still smiling.


	15. Goodbye

**Chapter 15**  
(Mickey POV)

Mickey had wanted to sleep in, but that had been wishful thinking. This time it wasn't a nightmare that didn't let him rest. In fact, he had slept like a baby. It wasn't the heat from Ian's body, nor the weight of his muscled arm draped over Mickey's shoulder that woke him up. It was Gallagher's fucking erection. _Again._ Mickey could feel it, rock hard, against his hip. He opened his eyes a fraction and saw that it was just past 9 in the morning. Unfortunately, he was past the point of being able to close his eyes and go back to sleep. His mind was too alert, probably due to his own morning wood. He reached back and gently moved Ian's arm off of him without waking the redhead, then got up quietly. 

Before walking to the bathroom, Mickey looked down at the boy on his bed and wondered why Ian got so fucking clingy in his sleep. The boy's face was so calm, his expression was so relaxed. There was even a faint smile painted on his lips. Mickey felt his dick twitch in desperation. _What the fuck..._ He shook his head and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Mandy was gone already, but Brian was asleep in her bed. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw that Travis was still asleep too. With everyone asleep, he figured, what the hell. Mickey turned the water on and waited for it to warm up before throwing his boxers into the hamper and getting in. He let the hot water wash over him before he started stroking himself. Normally Mickey didn't like to masturbate in the shower—water didn't exactly make a good lubricant—but this was his only option at the moment. 

Mickey closed his eyes as he stood under the hot stream, one hand braced against the tile of the shower wall and the other around his shaft. He thought about the last girl he's banged before leaving Chicago. She'd been one of his brother's slutty friends. Her name was Crystal and Mickey remembered thinking how ironic that really had been, since she'd been high on the shit more often than not. They'd both been on glass that night and the freak had wanted to have anal. 

Mickey had never done it before but he figured it couldn't be much different than fucking a vagina. A hole's a hole, right? She'd passed him a small packet of lube after he'd put the condom on. Mickey had pushed into her, surprised at how tight it had felt—as if his dick was in a vacuum. The pressure all around it was ridiculously good, magnified by the side effects the meth had on his libido. 

Mickey had fucked Crystal long and hard and the girl had loved it. He liked it rough. That had been his first time fucking a girl who wasn't a complete pussy and could handle him without complaining. In fact, she'd begged for it. He had rammed his dick in her so hard when he came that they had cracked his headboard. 

Mickey was close. His pace had increased and he was yanking forcefully on his cock. Thinking about his release in Crystal, he grunted as he came, cum shooting forward and landing on the cold tiles he was still leaning against with his other hand. He took a few shuddering breaths to steady himself. Well, the one positive of jerking off in the shower was that it made cleaning up a breeze. He chuckled softly as he washed away the evidence of his orgasm.

He finished up his shower and dried off with one of the clean towels hanging on the rack of the bathroom. He made a mental note to thank Mrs. Lombardi yet again for letting him and Mandy use her washer and dryer. It was so much easier (and cheaper) than going to the laundromat. He decided he would tell her at dinner that night before going to work. It was Sunday, after all.

Mickey brushed his teeth and shaved before walking out. Travis had made coffee and all three guys were sitting at the kitchen table, mugs in hand. There was an extra one sitting out for Mickey.

Taking the mug, Mickey gently blew on it before taking a tentative sip. “I hope I didn't wake you up,” he said to Travis apologetically. 

“Don't worry; I had an alarm set. I gotta get to work in a few minutes,” Travis replied, getting up and walking to the bathroom to change.

“I'll walk to the diner with you. Mandy left without waking me up and I hate starting my day off without seeing her,” Brian added as way of explanation. Sometimes the affection his friend felt for his sister made Mickey want to throw up. This was one of those moments. He made a face and Ian must have noticed because the redhead let out a little snort. Mickey looked at him and they both began laughing. 

“Yeah, laugh all you want, fuckers. Just remember who got laid last night,” Brian retorted as he got up and put his and Travis' mugs in the sink. Their laughs subsided by the time Travis was ready to go. “Have a safe trip home, man,” Brian said to Ian as the two boys left. Ian waved a silent goodbye to them.

Mickey was almost done with his coffee when Ian spoke. “I'm starving, Mick. Let's go get something to eat. Something _besides_ diner food.”

“Okay, Firecrotch, what do you want?”

Ian grinned before replying. “McDonald's. They're still serving breakfast, right?”

Mickey looked at the time. It wasn't even 10 yet. He nodded. “Let me go get dressed,” he said, since he was still in his towel.

They walked to the closest McDonald's which was only a few blocks away and both ordered the McGriddle meal with sausage. “I don't know what it is about the combination of sweet and savory that makes me love this thing so much,” Ian exclaimed, taking another big bite of his sandwich. His mouth was full as he spoke. Mickey watched as Ian scarfed his meal down, even eating his hash brown in just two bites. 

Mickey didn't know how long it had taken him to stop eating like that after they left Chicago. Ian still lived at home and he was sure that the redhead had dealt with the same shit he and Mandy had: you eat as much as you can, as fast as you can, or you might not get to eat at all. He wondered why he hadn't noticed that about the redhead before. It was a sad thought. 

They went back to the apartment and sat around watching TV until it was time to go to the city. Ian threw all his shit into his bag, saying Fiona would wash it and fold it for him when he got home. “You're such a spoiled brat,” Mickey had said, shoving him. “I'm surprised they even let you come here.”

“I told them I was at an ROTC retreat...”

Mickey could tell Ian was uncomfortable with having to lie to his family from the guilty expression he had on his face. “Oh yeah? Baby army takes you out on field trips now?” Mickey teased. 

“Shut up...” He saw the small smile play on Gallagher's lips so he knew it hadn't upset him for real.

They were sitting on the train. “So what are you going to tell them this summer?” Mickey wondered. “The ROTC lie won't hold out every time.”

Ian was quiet and Mickey eventually started to feel panic. Was Gallagher not coming to visit again in the summer? He'd just assumed that Mandy would have invited him.

“I'm taking summer classes. I need to get my grades up if I want a chance of getting into West Point.”

“If you want the army to give you a fucking gun, all you have to do is enlist,” Mickey shot back. He'd always known that Gallagher had wanted to join the army. The kid had gone on and on about it being a way for him to get out of Chicago, but it had never seemed like an actual possibility to Mickey.

“But I want to be an officer,” Ian had explained.

“You want to be an officer, huh? Don't officers get shot first?” The question was rhetorical.

“I've been studying with Lip,” Ian continued. “I'm taking geometry, algebra 2, trigonometry and chemistry this summer.”

“What do you need all that shit for?”

“You know, artillery, mortars, bomb trajectories. It's confusing at first but if you put enough hours and you study hard, you can learn anything.” 

Mickey wanted to tell Ian he sounded like a twat. He wanted to tell him that going to Afghanistan or Iraq or any another Arab country and getting shot at was not the only way to get out of Chicago. In fact, it was a fucking stupid idea.

Mickey kept his mouth shut. He didn't know what to say to get his point across to the redhead, and it was probably a discussion that would take longer than the short time they had left on the subway ride. He kept quiet the rest of the trip and let Ian run his mouth off about his summer courses and the requirements for getting into West Point, only half paying attention.

When they got to Manhattan, they walked the few blocks to the Port Authority and Mickey waiting with Ian on the line for his Greyhound bus. Mickey tried not to think about the fact that he didn't know when he'd see the kid again. He had been miserable since the beginning of the year, and it had only dawned on him recently that the emptiness he'd felt had been a result of missing his friend. That could be the only explanation for why his life felt more full in the week since Ian had come to visit. Not to mention it had brought an end to that terrible dream. 

But now Ian was leaving again. Mickey's chest started to ache as the line got shorter. Ian had his tickets in one hand and the duffel bag over the opposite shoulder. “I had a great spring break,” he said to Mickey. 

“Yeah, okay. Good.”

Ian hesitated but then he reached over and gave Mickey a hug. Mick put his hands gently on Ian's hips, tentatively hugging him back.

“Bye Mick,” Ian said, voice low, almost a whisper.

Mickey only grunted in response, and before he knew it, the redhead had waved at him and had boarded the bus.

_Fuck._


	16. Broken

**Chapter 16**

(Mandy POV)

When Mandy finished work, she called Ian right away.

“Hey, are you home yet?”

“Mands, I left like 3 hours ago... You know I'm not home yet! I think we're someplace in Pennsylvania.”

“Oh. Well, how did things go with Mickey? Was he nice? Did you get a chance to talk to him?” Mandy was excited. She had noticed Mickey's change of attitude after the first night Ian had arrived and had become convinced that her brother secretly liked Ian too. She had tried making herself scarce on purpose, forcing them to spend time together.

“He was fine. What was I supposed to talk to him about?” Ian asked.

“You know... your feelings. Did you kiss again?” Ian was silent. “Ian?” she asked, thinking maybe they'd gotten disconnected.

“Yeah... I'm here. Listen, Mandy... No, we didn't kiss again. He made it perfectly clear he wasn't interested in me  on New Years Eve. I was just too stupid to realize it...” He sighed. “I didn't talk to Mickey about any of that shit because I didn't want to upset him. We hung out and things are normal between us. It was fine. I'm fine. I'm seeing Lloyd. Plus, I have to focus on school now. I can't waste my time pining over someone like Mickey. Our junior year is almost over. Soon it'll be time to take the SATs and apply to colleges. Have you thought about taking a prep course or anything?”

Mandy bit her lip. She wanted to defend her brother. Ian's comment about wasting his time “over someone like Mickey” had really pissed her off. She didn't want to change the subject but Ian had effectively moved their conversation over to college and their futures. “Brian is going to help me study for it this summer. I'm too busy right now with work and everything, but I'll have more time when classes end.”

“Yeah, that's a good idea,” Ian said. “Anyway, the bus doesn't get in 'til 5am or something, so I'm gonna try to get some sleep. I don't want to have to miss the first day of classes tomorrow. I'll hit you up soon. Love you!”

“Love you too...” she muttered.

What the hell? Did Ian really not see what a different person he was making Mickey into? She walked home in a bad mood and only felt slightly better when she rang Mrs. Lombardi's doorbell. The smell of spaghetti and meatballs wafted out when the small woman opened the door and it made Mandy's mouth water.

“Hi honey. Come in, come in!” Mrs. Lombardi said as she gestured into her home. She gave Mandy a tight hug around the waist and Mandy reciprocated by hugging the woman around her shoulders. “Michael's already here. How was your day? Tell me all about it, dear.”

The night went on as usual, except Mandy noticed how unusually quiet Mickey was being. He excused himself at a quarter to eight to go to work, giving Mrs. Lombardi a hug and a kiss on the cheek as he thanked her on his way out. 

“He looks heartbroken...” Mrs. Lombardi gave Mandy a sad smile. “When does your friend get back? The tan, blonde one?”

Mandy cringed, not wanting to get into that discussion with Mrs. Lombardi. “Sara? She should be back later tonight. We start school again tomorrow.”

“Oh, well then... He should be happier soon enough,” she said, optimistically. Mandy could only frown in response.

Just as she'd expected, Mickey was a wreck. It was as if he was more depressed than Travis had been. Only Mandy understood the real reason behind his melancholy, but they all noticed and tried to keep him busy. 

Brian cut back on his time supervising Mickey as soon as he had gotten his bartending license. By then end of April, Mickey was manning Sullivan's alone each night, and Brian would only show up to close the registers and lock up. Brian and Mandy insisted on going to Rocky Horror with Mickey at least once a month. He went along but complained that it felt like he was betraying Travis, since his ex Joe was now part of the cast. 

Sara told Mandy that she had tried cheering him up with offers of drugs and sex but that he had turned her down on both fronts. Mandy tried to be supportive and consoling to her friend but she was secretly relieved that Mickey hadn't taken her up on either.

The only one who seemed to be getting through just slightly was Travis. She didn't know what he was saying to Mickey, but she noticed that her brother seemed to be less on edge when he hung out with him. She didn't get it, because all they did together was drink beer and watch TV. She wanted to talk to Mickey. She really wanted to tell him that it was okay to miss Ian and that she missed him too, but she was afraid that she might upset him even more if she brought any of it up, so she just let him be.

The semester ended before she even realized summer had arrived. Liz delivered her baby and since Travis left to get back his construction job, Mandy was able to work full time at the diner. They'd decided to go out and celebrate Travis' birthday that weekend. Mickey got Tom to cover for him and the five of them went into the city. They ate at a Thai restaurant downtown and then went to see an improv show at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. 

After the show, Sara suggested that they go to a bar. Mandy was skeptical since she didn't have ID but Sara assured them that she knew the bouncer. She led them through so many different streets that Mandy eventually stopped paying attention to where they were. When she finally stopped, Sara stood in front of a stone building with a black, glossy door. She knocked three times. A buff, Hispanic man in a tight black shirt opened the door. Sara leaned over and said something in his ear, and Mandy saw from the corner of her eye that she also handed him a little baggie with some yellow pills in it. She laughed at the craziness of it, especially when the bouncer stepped aside and let them in.

The place was half bar, half club. The S&M theme was blatantly obvious. The walls of the main floor were lined with red velvety curtains and booths with black, leather seats. There was a U-shaped bar in the center of the floor that was surrounded by studded leather bar stools, and the bartenders (male and female alike) were dressed in very revealing leather uniforms. Mandy could guess that the top floor was where the dancing was, even though it was closed off. There were two winding staircases that led up to a balcony where heavy black curtains separated the two spaces. She could hear the muffled sounds of the DJ as he announced the next song.

“Let's get some drinks in us first,” Sara said. 

The bar was crowded, despite its discrete appearance from the outside. They grabbed a booth and were greeted by a waiter in no time. The guy was really tall and skinny, with  black hair that he had gelled into a faux-hawk. He was wearing the same skimpy leather uniform that the bartenders had on: tight black pants and a vest that did absolutely nothing to cover his abs. Mandy had to keep herself from salivating. She put her hand in Brian's, intertwining their fingers. She was taken, she kept repeating it to herself. 

“Hi, I'm Matt. What can I get you guys?”

They ordered two rounds of shots to start off with, Sara explaining that it was Travis' birthday celebration. Mandy relentlessly grinning when she saw that the waiter, Matt, was flirting with Travis, but that her friend seemed completely oblivious to it. They had all loosened up in no time, even Mickey. Mandy lost count of how many drinks they had. 

They eventually settled their tab and went up to the club. Mandy tapped Travis on the shoulder and handed him a cocktail napkin that Matt had asked her to pass along to him, with his number and a little heart next to his name. Travis was in shock but Mandy just winked at him.

On the other side of the curtains, the music was blasting, laser lights were roaming the crowd and the mass of people was so thick that they were barely able to walk in. 

“How do _curtains_ keep the sound in?” Mickey shouted into her ear. Mandy had been fascinated by the same thing, and was about to tell him she had no fucking clue when her attention was drawn by the club's dancers. They were suspended from the ceiling in metal cages, and were decked out in some heavy duty BDSM attire. She pointed up and Mickey followed her finger, finally spotting them above him. “Sara, what the fuck?” he coughed a small laugh. “You're such a freak,” he told her with a smirk on his face.

Mandy grabbed her brother's arm and gave him a strong tug. “Come dance with me!” she demanded. Mickey quickly understood that it wasn't a request and followed her, making a face. They spent a few hours at the club, and by the time they left, they were all beyond exhausted.

Mickey was the most fucked up of all of them. Mandy hadn't seen him drink any more than she had, but she figured he must have gone back down to the bar for more when she had been dancing with Brian. The boys had helped her drag him into his bedroom. She pulled off Mickey's shoes and jeans after they deposited him into his bed. He was out before she had even pulled his light blanket over him. 

Mandy was about to walk out when she saw something shiny peeking out from under his pillow. She pulled at it and discovered that it was a glossy photo. The edges were bent and crinkled, but she could clearly see it was one of the pictures that Sara had developed and given to them. In it, Mickey and Ian stood in front of the tree at Rockefeller Center. Ian was grinning at the camera and had an arm around Mickey's shoulders. Mandy looked closely at Mickey's face and noticed that even though he was facing the camera, his eyes were looking at Ian, and her brother was smiling. She hadn't seen that smile on him in months and it broke her heart. Eyes brimming with tears, Mandy slowly pushed the picture back under Mickey's pillow and walked out, closing the door behind her. 

She got undressed and slipped into her bed beside Brian. She typed out a text message and sent it to Ian before putting her phone on the charger and going to sleep.

[ **5:44am Mandy:** i kno it's late. sry. mickey's # is 718-555-1234. u have 2 txt him. he's broken w/o u.]


	17. Communication

**Chapter 17**

(Mickey POV)

_Mickey was in Chicago. He was walking through the streets of his neighborhood and he knew he was looking for something, but he wasn't sure what that thing was._

“ _Mickey!”_

_He heard someone calling him from around the corner. He picked up his pace and began running. As he turned the corner, he saw a flash of red duck behind a house. He took off towards the flash when he heard his name again from behind him._

“ _Mickey...!”_

_It was fainter this time, but he was more sure about the direction. He whipped around and started running towards the voice. There was an alley on his left and he turned into it, but he suddenly stopped in his tracks._

_Gallagher was lying on the floor of the alley. He was dressed in his ROTC camouflage. His backpack was ripped open and the books inside were strewn across the floor by his feet. Pages of chemistry and trigonometry exercises were flying through the air, as if they had just been thrown out of the window of the apartment beside the alley._

_As the pages settled, Mickey focused on Ian's lifeless form. There was a line of blood dripping down his forehead. A wooden bat that was cracked in half had been discarded just a couple of feet away from the boy's body._

_Mickey fell to his knees. He'd been too late. Gallagher was gone. He was gone..._

~

Mickey woke up. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He shuddered and wiped at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself. His hands were shaking and he felt sick.

He looked at the time. It was just a little past 6am. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. Only when he stood did the nausea really hit him. He had about two seconds to come to the realization that he didn't have a garbage can in his room, and he did the only thing he could think of: he stuck his head out of the open window and vomited outside.

His whole body was racked with pain. Mickey retched again and again, his stomach clearly retaliating for the innumerable drinks he'd consumed at that S&M bar. Once he had expelled everything, Mickey almost felt better. Except he could still hear that faint voice calling for him from his nightmare. 

He took off his t-shirt and used it to wipe his mouth. Mickey tossed his shirt on the ground beside the bed as he lay back down. Maybe he could get a bit more sleep now that the party in his stomach was settling down.  

A couple of hours later, Mickey was woken by a beeping sound coming from beside the bed. He leaned down and fished for his jeans, taking the cell phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open and read the message.

[ **9:30am unknown caller:** hey Mick]

Mickey scowled as he typed back a response.

[ **9:30am Mickey:** who's this]

[ **9:31am unknown caller:** it's Ian]

Mickey didn't know how to reply. Why was Ian texting him? And how did he get his cell phone number? As if reading his mind, Ian texted again.

[ **9:33am unknown caller:** Mandy gave me your #... i guess she thinks it's safe or whatever now]

[ **9:34am unknown caller:** how are you doing?]

Mickey read the last message and snorted. As if Ian gave a shit. They hadn't talked for months and suddenly he was supposed to believe the kid cared? Nevertheless, Mickey programmed the number into his phone.

[ **9:42am Mickey:** why are you texting me?]

[ **9:43am Firecrotch:** i just wanted to see how you were]

[ **9:43am Firecrotch:** missed you]

[ **9:50am Mickey:** that's fucking bullshit]

Mickey slammed his phone shut. He got up and went to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and was about to grab a beer when his stomach protested. He moved his hand away from the beer and took out a can of ginger ale instead. It was a pussy move but after the morning he'd had, he didn't want to take any chances. 

He drank half the can's contents before taking a look around the apartment. He could hear the shower running and assumed Travis was in it since the futon hadn't been made yet, and the guy was meticulous about keeping the room clean.

He walked to Mandy's room and the door was closed. He put his ear against it and could make out two distinct snores. He was about to walk in and wake his sister up, thinking she was late for work, when he remembered they'd hired another waitress to help out over the summer break.

Mickey decided to make something to eat. He hadn't cooked at home in a while. Deciding he wanted to try something a little special, Mickey went to his room and put on a clean shirt and shorts, and then went downstairs. He knocked on Mrs. Lombardi's door and asked her if she had any type of berries he could use to make breakfast. The old lady smiled and him and gave him a small bowl of blueberries that she had already washed. Mickey thanked her and went back upstairs.

Mickey decided to make blueberry pancakes. He was thankful that Mandy kept the kitchen stocked with all her baking supplies. He grabbed the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, milk, vegetable oil and an egg. He mixed all of the ingredients and added the blueberries. He turned the oven on low and took out a baking tray. It was a trick Mrs. Lombardi had taught him a while ago: if he kept the finished pancakes in the over, they would all be warm when he was ready to serve them. When the pan was hot, he started spooning the batter into rounds. He was able to make about three at a time. 

Travis walked out of the shower wearing a clean pair of boxers and using his towel to dry his hair. “Hey man, hope you enjoyed your birthday,” Mickey said to his friend. “Do you mind waking the others up? This should be ready soon.”

Travis nodded. He left the kitchen and Mickey heard him knock on his sister's door before turning his attention back on the task at hand. He finished spooning the last batch of three. He put the mixing bowl and spoon into the sink and rinsed them off. 

Travis came back and filled up the coffee machine with water. He changed out the ground coffee and turned it on. “So, the waiter gave me his number last night... Think I should give him a call?”

Mickey looked up at him, a bit surprised. “Oh. Yeah, that's awesome, man. Why wouldn't you call?” He turned around and checked that the pancakes were bubbling before flipping them over with the spatula.

Travis let out a huff. “I don't know. I don't want to seem desperate or clingy or anything.” He didn't mention Joe but they both knew he was referring to what had happened between him and his ex.

“He gave you his number. Clearly that means he's interested. Ball's in your court, man.”

Travis nodded, expression grave. “But what should I say...?”

Mickey snorted. “Hell if I know. 'Just be yourself.' Isn't that what they say?” 

He saw the smile start to spread on Travis' face. “Yeah, it is. Thanks.”

Mickey turned off the stove and oven and plated the pancakes. He got the syrup out of the cabinet and took a handful of clean utensils out of the dishwasher.

Mandy and Brian walked in then. His sister was wearing a long t-shirt over her underwear. “Jeez, Mandy. Can't you put some fucking clothes on?”

“Why the fuck would I do that? The only people here are my boyfriend, my brother and our gay roommate.” She playfully shoved Mickey's shoulder as he put the plates down on the table. “What's the occasion?” she asked, gesturing at the food.

“Travis' birthday is technically today.”

They ate the breakfast, and Mandy offered to clean up. Mickey desperately needed a shower. He went back to his room afterwards and laid down, still in his towel. He figured he could close the door and air dry a bit. 

Mickey flipped open his phone and looked at his messages.

[ **9:53am Firecrotch:** i was busy. i didn't think u'd give a shit.]

[ **10:01am Firecrotch:** i definitely didn't expect u 2 be such a little bitch about it.]

Oh, a little bitch? Mickey would show him who was the little bitch.

[ **10:48am Mickey:** i don't give a shit. still fucking grandpa?]

Mickey hit send with a sneer. 

[ **10:49am Firecrotch:** ya. he's a dr, u know]

[ **10:50am Mickey:** do u guys, like, picnic 2gether? or, uh, u gonna get a little dog w/ a fuckin' sweater?]

[ **10:50am Firecrotch:** nah, we don't picnic. we mostly just fuck. u know, like u and sara.]

Mickey's sneer turned into a grimace, even though he hadn't fucked Sara since New Years Eve. The thought of that night brought back all the other memories he'd tried so hard to put behind him. Mickey decided to ignore Ian's last text and tossed his phone onto the bed. He ran his hands through his damp hair. He didn't know what to say. Did he owe Gallagher an explanation? He leaned over and picked up the cell.

[ **10:59am Mickey:** well, i wouldn't really know. haven't fucked her since NYE]

He waited but no response came. He finally decided to get dressed. Mickey wasn't really sure what to do with his free time. He walked back to the kitchen and sat next to Travis on the couch. They didn't need to say anything to each other. They just relaxed on the couch and watched TV like bums for the next few hours, and Mickey didn't feel quite so alone.

Another week and a half went by before Mickey heard from Ian again.

[ **9:54pm Firecrotch:** DFS came 2 the house  & collected us. Lip n i are in a group home. the younger ones r @ foster homes.]

[ **9:55pm Firecrotch:** Fiona says she's gonna try 2 get custody. this fucking sucks]

[ **10:00pm Mickey:** do u know who called them or y?]

[ **10:01pm Firecrotch:** no. have u ever been taken by DFS before?]

[ **10:03pm Mickey:** yah, twice. the 1st time was when Terry had a pissing match with that detective that moved in a couple of houses down from us. guy wouldn't take a bribe, n he eventually called DFS]

[ **10:04pm Mickey:** we were home in a few weeks. dunno how Terry threatened him, but the guy told the city he'd lied about everything—he refused to testify]

[ **10:07pm Firecrotch:** and the second time?]

[ **10:11pm Mickey:** the night my mom ODed. Terry was in prison and we had to wait til he got out. that one took longer. we were there for 3 and a half months.]

[ **10:12pm Mickey:** Mandy and I were placed in a foster home 2gether, but our brothers went to the group home bc they were older.]

[ **10:15pm Firecrotch:** how old were u?]

[ **10:16pm Mickey:** 6 the first time, 9 the second]

[ **10:20pm Firecrotch:** i'm sorry, Mick]

Mickey didn't answer back. He knew what Gallagher meant, but if he responded, he couldn't pretend that Ian was sorry for leaving back in March. There was nothing Mickey could do. He couldn't go back to Chicago, and even if he could, there was no way to help. The boy would just have to wait it out.

Two weeks later, Mickey got another text. 

[ **4:07pm Firecrotch:** the court date's been set for Friday. we found out Frank was the one who called.]

Mickey hadn't heard the message because he'd been sleeping.

[ **6:10pm Mickey:** well that's cuz frank's a douchebag]

[ **6:12pm Firecrotch:** sorry Mick, can't really talk. going to have some drinks with Lloyd at the Fountain. it's happy hour and he wants to cheer me up.] 

[ **6:15pm Mickey:** what do you see in that geriatric viagroid?]

Mickey's was annoyed but he couldn't take the question back once he'd hit Send. He had hoped not to come off sounding so jealous. Ian's reply was quick.

[ **6:16pm Firecrotch:** he buys me stuff. orders me room service.]

[ **6:16pm Firecrotch:** he isn't afraid to kiss me.]

[ **6:17pm Mickey:** the fuck's that supposed to mean?]

[ **6:18pm Firecrotch:** nothing, Mick. i just mean that it's nice to not have to hide all the time.]

[ **6:18pm Firecrotch:** i'm kinda busy. i'll ttyl]

Gallagher was pissing him off. Mickey got up and started getting ready for work. It was early, but he had skipped lunch at the diner and needed to eat something before he left the apartment. He walked to the kitchen and poured his lazy ass a bowl of cereal.

He made an effort not to message Ian. He went to work and actually had a decent night, for a weekday. Brian came by at 2 to close up with him as usual. “Heard from Travis yet?” Brian asked.

Mickey looked at Brian and raised an eyebrow. “He wasn't home when I left. Why? What's up?”

Brian shrugged. “He called that waiter, Matt. They were supposed to get dinner tonight. I thought he'd call me and tell me how it went, but I haven't heard from him yet. I guess that means it went well, right?” Brian elbowed Mickey like he'd just made the greatest joke in the world, his big, goofy smile never wavering.

Mickey walked home slower than usual. There was so much running through his head. Ian was the one who kept messaging him. Things between them had been perfect when Ian had visited for Spring Break. The nightmares had stopped, and Mickey had gotten out of the funk he's been in. But then Ian had left with no return visit planned for only God knew how long, and Mickey had felt like shit. He'd felt like a piece of him had left with Gallagher. He'd been depressed since then; there was no other way to describe it.

He hadn't been oblivious to the fact that everyone had been trying to distract him. They'd all attempted to engage him in whatever shit they were doing at the time, just so he wouldn't stay home and mope all day long.  Not even the promotion (and nice raise that went along with it) had helped. Sure, studying for the test had taken his mind off of things for a while, but that had been short-lived. 

Maybe the worst part of it all had been that the nightmares had returned with a vengeance. Now he didn't just wake up from the feeling of his fist connecting with Gallagher's face. More often than not, Mickey would dream that something terrible had happened to the boy and he'd been too late to help.

Mickey got home and crashed on his bed. He kicked his boots off and turned onto his side. He reached under his pillow and pulled out his photo of Gallagher. Mickey held the picture with both of his hands, staring at it intently, just like he'd done every night since he'd found the envelop on his bed. 

Mickey had long since admitted to himself that he missed Ian, but what he was feeling right now was definitely something different. Mickey was jealous. The acknowledgment didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it just led to more questions. Was he jealous because he had feelings for Gallagher? Was he _attracted_ to Ian? And if so, did that mean he was gay? What could he do? Ian was in Chicago, probably fucking that old guy right now, and there was nothing Mickey could do about it. Shit, he couldn't even figure out if he liked the kid or not. He looked down at the picture again and felt the familiar hole in his chest ache. Who was he kidding? Of course he liked him. He just didn't know how to fix things... 

He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. It was already 2:30am, but that meant it was only 1:30 in Chicago. He carefully typed out his question to Gallagher before sending the message.

[ **2:35am Mickey:** you said the geezer's married. if you're so openly gay together, does she watch him fuck you?]

[ **2:36am Firecrotch:** shut the fuck up, Mick]

Mickey grinned. He loved that he was getting under Gallagher's skin. His phone beeped and he read the next text.

[ **2:38am Firecrotch:** and what makes you think he's not the one getting fucked?]

Mickey had to re-read the message. He felt like a fucking cartoon—eyes bugging out and jaw dropping. He was shocked that Gallagher had been bold enough to tell Mickey something like that. And he was also a little thrown. He'd just assumed that Ian was the one taking it up the ass because he was younger. Then again, the guy was anything but a bitch. He was tall, fit, rough around the edges, and not someone you could fuck with. He was from South Side, Chicago after all. 

Then Mickey's thoughts moved on to what that meant for them. Not that there was a “them” at all. But what if Mickey could get Ian to come back and visit? What if he could convince the kid that he _did_ have some sort of feelings for him... Even though he hadn't yet thought about that would mean... Would Ian expect Mickey to be the bitch?

He wasn't ready to think about it at all. He just knew he had to get Gallagher to come back to NY. Mickey pushed the picture back under his pillow and put his phone on its charger. He tore his t-shirt and shorts off and tossed them on the ground beside his boots before flipping onto his stomach and going to sleep.

The next text he got was on Friday afternoon.

[ **3:05pm Firecrotch:** Fiona was appointed as our guardian. we're home. the kids are celebrating in the pool.] 

[ **3:12pm Mickey:** congrats]

[ **3:15pm Mickey:** so when's this summer school crap end?]

[ **3:16pm Firecrotch:** middle of august. i'm sitting for the SATs as soon as the summer semester is over.]

[ **3:16pm Mickey:** and then you can come back and visit?]

Mickey hated that he sounded so needy. Maybe he should have waited a few minutes before asking that...

[ **3:17pm Firecrotch:** you really want me to?]

[ **3:18pm Mickey:** you shouldn't ask stupid questions, Gallagher. i wouldn't have fucking said it if i didn't]

[ **3:18pm Firecrotch:** :-D ]

 _Two months..._ Mickey thought to himself. _I only have to wait two more months._


	18. West Point

**Chapter 18**

(Mickey POV)

A lot had changed over the course of the summer. Mandy had studied hard for the SATs with Brian and had taken them for the first time at the end of July. She hadn't gotten her scores yet, but she didn't think she did badly. Her grades from her junior year had been decent enough that she would have had to _really_ fuck up the test for it to make a difference. 

She and Mickey had talked about her future during one of Mrs. Lombardi's Sunday night dinners. Mandy wasn't sure what she wanted to do yet, so Mrs. Lombardi had suggested that she go to community college first and try a variety of classes before she made a decision that would impact the rest of her life. In the meantime, Mandy was working double shifts at the diner to try to save up as much as she could before school started up again and she would be forced to cut her hours.

Brian had gotten into the management program at Queens College. He would be starting classes full time at the end of August. He'd given a key to Mickey and started letting him lock up the bar at nights. He still stopped by to help with the Friday and Saturday night crowds, and Mickey always appreciated the company. 

They'd been seeing very little of Travis lately. Summer was prime construction season, so he was constantly working as well. Things had gotten very serious between him and Matt, but it was hard because their schedules were complete opposites. Matt worked at the bar/club at nights but Travis had to be at the job site by 6 in the morning. He was spending whatever free time he had at Matt's apartment in Brooklyn on the weekends and on the couple of nights during the week that the guy had off.

Sara had been forced to go to Los Angeles again and spend the summer there. Mandy was a little bummed at first, but she's busied her self with studying and work pretty quickly.

As for Mickey, his mood had improved considerably with the knowledge of Ian's impending visit. He and Ian had been chatting via text messages all summer, and even though the short conversations were never about anything important, it was still wonderful to be in contact. Every time Mickey's cellphone beeped and he saw the little message icon pop up, he felt like the hole in him after Ian had left got just a tiny bit smaller. He didn't even care that Gallagher would ramble about his day, about what he fucking ate for dinner, about stupid shit his siblings had said or done... It didn't matter to Mickey one fucking bit.

He tried to stay calm the morning he went to meet Ian at the Port Authority. Mandy had work, so he'd gone solo. He was just thankful it was Sunday—dinner at Mrs. Lombardi's was at 6 and he didn't have to get to work until 8 that night. He really tried to keep his excitement in check, but when Gallagher got off the bus with his duffel bag thrown over one shoulder and grinned at seeing him, he couldn't help but smile right back. 

Ian came over and gave Mickey a quick one-armed hug, clapping him on the back like this was something they normally did. “Hey Mick. Long time no see...” he said, still grinning.

“Yeah, hey. Hope the bus ride wasn't too bad.” Mickey didn't comment about the fact that Gallagher had grown yet again, while Mickey was stuck at 5'9”. 

They started walking towards the 42nd street subway. 

“Eh, it was alright. For the last half of the trip, I was sitting next to this fat guy that smelled like fried chicken. Not much space, and I've been craving chicken for the last few hours!”

“Hah! We should get you some chicken, then,” Mickey mused. They took the subway back to Flushing and ate at a halal chicken restaurant before going to the apartment. Mickey gave Ian time to get settled and wasn't surprised when he heard the shower go on. He figured he'd probably feel gross after being on the bus overnight too.

They hung out at the apartment and watched TV until Mandy got home around 4. She had a bag of groceries in her hand and enlisted both boys to help her bake the night's dessert. She wanted to make carrot cake, so she set Mickey to grating the fresh carrots and had Ian help her mix the rest of the batter together. After the cake was in the oven, Mickey started washing some of the bowls and tools they'd used while she and Ian made the cream cheese frosting from scratch. The cake had to cool before they could frost it, so the three of them watched a Family Guy rerun while they waited. 

Dinner was delicious as usual. Mandy went upstairs to put the ravioli leftovers in the fridge and brought down the carrot cake. She enjoyed surprising Mrs. Lombardi with a new dessert every week. He left for work soon after the dessert and by the time he got back to the apartment, everyone was sleeping. Mickey set his alarm for 7am and went to sleep happy and excited about the following day.

“Rise and shine, Firecrotch!” he yelled, plopping a backpack onto Mandy's bed next to the sleeping boy. Ian was startled awake. He sat upright and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Mickey? What's going on? What time is it?”

“8am. Here,” he said, shoving the backpack closer to Ian. “Pack a change of clothes. I've got something planned.”

“Planned?” Ian asked, bewilderment clearly visible all over his face.

Mickey sighed. “Your birthday's tomorrow, right? Mandy thinks 17 is a big deal. She's throwing you a surprise party or some shit tomorrow night.” He looked at Ian, who scowled at him. “We'll be back by then. Now, pack!” he orders, pointing at the bag.

When Ian wandered out of Mandy's room, packed and dressed, Mickey was waiting in the kitchen. He watched as the redhead laid the bag down by the doorway and went to brush his teeth, still rubbing his eyes on his way to the bathroom. 

“No coffee or breakfast or anything?” Ian wondered when he was done.

“We'll get some from the McDonald's drive-thru before we hit the road.”

“Drive-thru?” Mickey grinned in response to Ian's confusion.

They walked downstairs and Mickey took the keys from his pocket, pressing the little unlock button on the alarm key fob. The lights of the tiny, silver Hyundai Elantra parked in front of the apartment flashed and he heard the doors click. He got in and threw his backpack onto the back seat, motioning for Ian to follow his lead when all the boy did was stand on the sidewalk, gawking.

Mickey turned the car on. “We have a schedule to keep with, Gallagher. Get your ass in the car!” Mickey called from the now-open window.

Ian slowly got into the car. He buckled his seatbelt and turned to look at Mickey expectantly. “Are you going to explain what's going on?”

Mickey grinned. “But that would ruin the surprise!” he said.

“You didn't seem to care about ruining Mandy's surprise for tomorrow,” Ian scoffed.

“Hah! Well, this is my surprise. It actually counts.” Mickey's grin had turned into a smirk. He put the car in drive and headed to McDonald's. When they'd gotten their food, Mickey looked at the clock in the dash. It was only 8:30. They were cutting it close but Mickey was sure he could still make good time. He got on the Whitestone Bridge and was relieved that there was no traffic.

After about 20 minutes, Ian broke the silence. “How'd you rent a car, Mickey? Don't you need a credit card?”

“Yeah, you do. Plus, you need to be over 25.” Mickey knew Ian wasn't going to give up, so he conceded. “I went to Enterprise with Mrs. Lombardi this morning. Can you believe the woman still has a valid license? It took her 20 minutes to find her wallet, though.” Mickey shook his head. She was definitely getting old.

He guessed that Ian had accepted his answer because he saw him shrug his shoulders slightly from the corner of his eye. Ian then turned the radio on and played with it a little before settling on a modern rock station. 

Mickey pulled out the folded piece of paper with directions he'd written from his pocket and spread it open in front of the steering wheel. 

Sometime in the beginning of August, about a week before Gallagher was supposed to come, Mickey had gone to the library to use the computers. He'd done some research on West Point and had found that they gave free campus tours for prospective students during the summer, no appointment needed. He'd planned it all out: reserved a rental car, gotten directions, and booked a night at a bed and breakfast close by. He'd even taken 2 days off at the diner and arranged to have Brian cover for him at the bar on the Monday night.

He knew it was lame, but with everything Gallagher had going on at home right now, he felt like the kid deserved something special for his birthday. And however much Mickey thought the idea of Ian going off to join the army was terrible, he knew it was his dream and Mickey wasn't going to be the one to take that away from him. Plus, West Point was only an hour's drive north of New York City. Surely four years of guaranteed proximity wasn't something he could ignore...

They crossed over the Hudson River at Bear Mountain Bridge, just after Peekskill. Mickey glanced at Ian and saw him looking out the window in amazement at the view. It really was something to see. The websites he'd looked at had all said that summertime was a great time to plan a visit because you could really see the 'beauty of the Appalachian trail'. There were mountains covered in bold, green trees all around them. The river was alive with boats and families all along its banks, and there were even cyclists on the bridge's pedestrian path. 

Mickey told Ian they were close, and about 15 minutes later, they pulled up to Thayer Gate. 

“West Point? You brought me to West Point!?” The smile on Gallagher's face was enough to make Mickey feel a tiny bit less embarrassed about all the planning he'd done. That smile told him this was really the perfect gift. 

Mickey shrugged, trying to play it cool, and said, “We meet at 9:45 for an Admissions Overview. You have an appointment with a counselor, and then an Admissions Officer gives us some kind of walking tour of the campus.” 

The guards asked for ID before directing them where to go. Parking was a bitch and Mickey tried not to complain too loudly about how much walking they had to do to get from the lot to the Admissions entrance.

After a little meeting with all the visitors, Ian met one-on-one with a counselor who talked to him about the admissions process, cadet life, army life and answered all the questions he had. Mickey knew Gallagher would have a shitload of questions, and pitied the poor counselor who had to deal with him. He waited in the hall along with a bunch of parents and younger siblings of the other prospective students who where there for the visit that day. He was bored out of his mind, but he tried to be patient, telling himself Ian was probably shitting himself with excitement. 

When they eventually returned, Ian had about 20 pamphlets clutched in his hands. Mickey smirked. “Lot of paperwork?”

“You have no idea! Mickey, this is crazy!”

The walking tour was lame, but they got to see a lot. The officer led them to the Visitor's Center, West Point Museum, residence halls, the dining hall (which was called the “Cadet Mess”) and showed them a few of the classrooms. All the while, he was telling them about the history and architecture of the school. Mickey stifled a few yawns, but he had to admit: the school was on a hill overlooking the Hudson River, and the view was very dramatic.

The tour ended around noon and the officer told them that they were welcomed to walk around campus on their own to explore, Mickey followed behind Ian as he walked around the school for another hour and a half, using one of his little pamphlets as a map. He even wanted to see the cemetery. When they finally got back to the car, Mickey's stomach was growling. 

“Time for lunch, Firecrotch.” 

A sudden expert, Ian pulled open one of the booklets and flipped to a page he had dog-eared already. “We have to go to the this burger place,” he said, eagerly showing Mickey the page. He looked at the name of the place (Woody's) and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah. I know the name is gay... It's supposedly a cadet favorite,” he said, eyes pleading.

“Whatever,” Mickey mumbled, looking at the map in the corner of the page. It was a 15 minute drive and Mickey was glad he got them there without getting lost. They ordered their burgers and Mickey sat quietly eating while Ian went on and on about the school and what the counselor had talked to him about. 

“This was so great. Thanks for bringing me. I wish we didn't have to leave...”

“Who said we're leaving?”

“What do you mean? We saw the school already...”

“Yeah, well...” Mickey was staring at his burger, trying not to look at Ian's face. “I didn't know how long the stupid tour would take, so... I booked a room...” The last part was barely audible. Mickey had practically whispered it, but he was sure Ian had heard. When he finally chanced a peek up, he saw the delight in Ian's eyes.

“Where are we staying?” Ian asked, enthusiastically.

Mickey pulled a post it from his pocket. “It's a bed and breakfast. The Caldwell House. Should be less than 10 minutes from here.”

They found the place rather easily. It was a big colonial-style house which had been converted into a bed and breakfast. The two story building had tall columns on the outside and was decorated with American flags all over. There was one Irish flag hanging outside to bring attention to the family's origins, and Mickey gently elbowed Ian before pointing at it. “You'll fit right in, Firecrotch.”

They walked in and were greeted by a heavy, middle-aged, blonde woman  who introduced herself as Dena. She checked them in (under the last name Lombardi), since the reservation was already paid for. Mickey had called ahead with Mrs. Lombardi to confirm that his name was in their notes, so all Mickey had to do was show his actual ID and sign a paper, and they were set. Dena showed them the dining room and the parlor, explaining that dinner and breakfast were included in their stay, and were at 6pm and 9am, respectively. 

She led them to their room, “the Antrim Room”, telling them it had been the original owners' quarters. All the other rooms had similarly stupid names. It was the only room on the first floor, but was set back in a corner of the house so that it was pretty secluded, and very quiet. Dena handed Mickey an antique key and left, giving them privacy. Mickey locked the door behind her as she walked out.

Mickey took a look around the room. He'd seen pictures online, and it looked just the same. The walls were a light blue with off-white trim and moldings. Long, beige, silk curtains hung over the windows and were drawn back by tassels. There was an actual fireplace, not that they needed to turn it on at the height of summer, and flat screen TV hung above the mantle. A door to the left of the fireplace led to the en-suite bathroom. The queen sized bed was covered with 20 decorative throw pillows and a comforter that tied the blue, white and beige theme together. It was the fanciest room Mickey had ever been in. 

He walked to one of the baby blue arm chairs and sat down, letting his backpack fall to the ground beside him. He looked at Ian, trying to figure out what the boy was thinking.

“One bed?” It was his first comment.

Mickey bit his lip nervously. “They don't have single beds here. This one was the cheapest room. The other ones have king-sized beds,” he explained, trying to make it less of a big deal.

“Mickey...” Ian sat on the corner of the bed closest to where Mickey's chair was. “This is ridiculous. How can you afford this? And the rental car?”

Mickey shrugged. “I got a promotion. It's not a big deal. The whole thing cost less than $300, gas and tolls included. It's your birthday. You should enjoy it. Plus, it was either this or a dirty motel.”

“A card would have been enough, you know...”

Mickey laughed. “I'm not giving you a fucking card, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled. “That's okay, Mick. This'll do...” Ian said. He waved his hand around the room. “Didn't figure you as the romantic type,” he teased.

Mickey blushed. “Shut the fuck up...”

Ian raised his hands. “Okay, okay. Sorry. It's really nice.” He let his arms fall back down into his lap. “So, um... What are we gonna do 'til dinner?”

“They have board games in the living room,” Mickey suggested. They played Monopoly for the next few hours. They were pretty evenly matched, neither one able to gain the upper hand. Dena interrupted them around 6 to tell them dinner would be ready soon. Closing the game, they made their way to the dining room. 

There were only 4 other guests staying at the bed and breakfast. The elderly couple said they were celebrating their wedding anniversary. The other couple looked to be in their thirties and were in town for a wedding. They all made polite small-talk during the 4-course dinner, even though Mickey kept silent. Gallagher was doing enough talking for the both of them, as usual. 

The old man had made the mistake of asking about about West Point. Ian told him that it's real name was the United States Military Academy at West Point. It was a four year college that was paid for by the government if the student, called a cadet, graduated. Immediately after graduation, he would have a military service obligation of 5 years of active duty, followed by 3 years of inactive duty. 

Mickey rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. 4 years of school and then 8 years of commitment? He hadn't known that... He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face.

The last dinner course was dessert—a strange layered cake that Mickey didn't know the name of. There was a sparkler on one of the slices that Dena had wheeled in on the serving cart. She placed it in front of Ian and they all sang Happy Birthday to him.


	19. Bed & Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the naughtiest thing I've ever written, and I apologize ahead of time if there are any inaccuracies! There's only so much understanding/insight I can have, as a woman ;)

**Chapter 19**

(Mickey POV) 

After dinner, they retreated to their room. Ian jumped onto the bed, tossing the extra pillows unceremoniously onto the floor. “I never got the point of all these silly little pillows. It's stupid, don't you think?” 

Mickey nodded in agreement. He didn't have beer or anything, so he opened the windows and brought over an ashtray and a joint. He thought it might help him relax. They sat on the bed with their backs against the headboard and Ian turned on the TV. “Did you know they have Netflix?” He scrolled through the library, obviously wanting to watch an action movie. “So, Under Siege or Timecop?”

“Tough choice, but I'm gonna go with Under Siege. Steven Seagal's more of a bad-ass.”

Ian hit play. “I don't know what you're talking about. Jean Claude Van Damme's the shit. He would definitely win in a battle against Seagal.” The opening credits began to play.

“You are out of your mind. Have you seen that fucking pony tail? It's a powerful pony tail, man.” Mickey clearly refused to drop the conversation. “That's bullshit. Seagal could totally kick Van Damme's ass.”

“Okay,” Ian said, conceding. “Unless... unless it's Double Impact Van Damme. Because that's some Van double Damme.”

Mickey couldn't help but laugh at Ian's terrible joke. “You are so fucking stupid,” he said, shoving Ian aside with his shoulder. He took a couple of hits off the joint and passed it to Ian. They watched the rest of the movie and when it was over, Netflix asked them if they wanted to watch the sequel. Ian automatically hit OK.

It was already dark out. Mickey would have been tired hours ago after all the walking they'd done that day, but he couldn't seem to relax. He was nervous to the point of having to sit on his hands to keep from fidgeting. Mickey had been worrying about this moment for the past two months. It was a big fucking deal, and he was scared. 

They were still sitting side-by-side, just close enough that Mickey's shoulder had been warm for the last hour where it touched Ian's. He knew this was it. He knew he had to be the one to make a move, because Gallagher had already tried back in January. 

_Kiss me again and I'll cut your fucking tongue out..._

Mickey shuddered at the memory. He turned to look at Ian, whose attention was fully on the movie. He looked at the redhead's face intently. Mickey could see the lights from the TV reflected in Ian's eyes. He saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile during the hand-to-hand fights. Ian had probably learned all that ninja shit in ROTC. 

Ian turned his head slightly to face Mickey. He most likely felt the older boy watching him. Mickey took a deep breath and leaned closer, shut his eyes and pressed his lips to Ian's. It wasn't anything like their first kiss. This was completely something different. It was sweet and tender. There were no tongues involved. Mickey's heart was pounding in his chest. It felt so right. So perfect. Mickey felt whole again.

He broke the kiss, leaning back again and opening his eyes. He let go of the breath he'd been holding. Ian's eyes were wide in shock.

“M-Mickey...” Ian stammered. “What was that...?”

Mickey looked down at his hands. 

“Hey—” Ian reached out to touch Mickey's face but he changed his mind. His arm was still in the air, hovering for a few moments until he let it drop. “Mick?”

“I...” Mickey couldn't find the words. He didn't even know what he wanted to say. He looked helplessly at Ian.

Ian was grinning. “You kissed me!”

Mickey felt his cheeks turning red. He looked down again, avoiding Gallagher's gaze. A few moments passed and the only thing Mickey could hear was the drum of his own heartbeat.  He wondered if it was banging loud enough for Ian to hear it too.

“Why?” Ian asked quietly.

Mickey snorted. “Why the fuck do you think?” He desperately wanted to pull the covers over himself and hide. “Just... just forget about it. Can we go back to watching the move?” He chanced another glance at Ian, who was still smiling. Except now, Ian wore that mischievous grin of his that Mickey loved and hated at the same time. The one that Mickey knew meant trouble.

“No, Mick. We can't go back to watching the movie...” he said playfully. He moved so that he stood on his knees on the bed. “I'd rather go back to kissing you,” Ian clarified.

This time Mickey's eyes were the ones that were wide. Ian was slowly inching his way closer to Mickey, until he swung one leg over him and sat on Mickey's lap, straddling him and effectively locking him in place. He grabbed Mickey's chin with his thumb and gently pulled at it. Mickey had been nervously chewing the corner of his bottom lip, which now fell out from between his teeth. Ian's other hand went behind Mickey's neck.

He peered up at Ian's eyes and he lost himself in them. Their mouths crashed together. It was anything but gentle this time. Ian's tongue was warm and delicious in his mouth. Mickey moaned as Ian used his hand behind Mickey's neck to pull them even closer to one another. 

Mickey was growing harder with every passing second. His skin burned where it touched Ian's. Mickey wanted more contact. He wanted to feel his body against Ian's. He pulled at Ian's shirt. Ian tore his lips away for just a second as Mickey lifted the t-shirt over the boy's head. Ian pulled Mickey's off in turn. They resumed their kiss. He didn't know making out could be so much fun! 

If Mickey had been uncertain before about his feelings for Ian, he was fucking positive now.

His hands reached around Ian to feel the boy's back. Ian's muscles rippled beneath the touch of Mickey's palms. Ian sucked on Mickey's tongue and Mickey groaned as his erection pressed even harder against Ian's inner thigh. 

Ian began kissing Mickey's neck. Mickey closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of Ian's wet lips on him, slowly moving down his neck and towards his chest. Mickey's breathing was heavy and labored. Ian licked one of Mickey's nipples tentatively before starting to suck on it. He pinched the other one with his hand and Mickey winced, jumping up as much as he could with Ian's body weight still pinning him down. Ian looked up at him with that same devil's grin, then moved his lips over to the other side, gently kissing the offended nipple.

He moved back off of Mickey's thighs so that he could have a better angle and trailed his kisses down Mickey's chest, then his abs, stopping only when there was no place left to go. He reached for Mickey's pants but froze when he heard Mickey's sudden intake of breath. 

“Ian...” Mickey didn't know what to say. “I-I've never...”

“You've never gotten head before?” Ian teased.

“No, you know that's not what I fucking meant, asshole.”

Ian giggled. “Yeah, I know. Just relax, Mick.” He leaned up and kissed Mickey on the lips, distracting him from the fact that he undid the button of Mickey's jeans and was opening the zipper ever-so-slowly. Ian moved down the bed and pulled Mickey's pants and boxers off in one swift motion. Mickey's dick was so hard that it popped free and bounced back, hitting his lower stomach. Ian's only reaction was to giggle again.

The room was dark; the only light was coming from the TV. Ian situated himself between Mickey's legs. He looked up at Mickey one more time, as if for approval. Mickey gave him a slight nod and that was all Ian needed in terms of a go-ahead. He placed one hand on Mickey's thigh and the other lightly around the base of Mickey's penis, guiding it forward a bit. Ian stuck his tongue out and licked the tip of Mickey's dick where his precum had already started seeping out. He lapped at it and then licked a line down the underside of his penis, from the tip all the way down to the base and back up again. The sensation made Mickey's toes curl. 

Ian opened his mouth and covered the head of Mickey's penis with his lips. He sucked just the head for a while until it was good and wet. Next, he moved his lips lower so that about four inches of Mickey's dick were down his throat, and continued sucking. Mickey moved his hands so they rested on either side of Ian's head. He leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes, enjoying the blowjob. A lot of girls had told him that his cock wasn't just long, but was also very thick. That was why, when Mickey felt Gallagher's mouth slide all the way down to the base of his 7 inches and Ian didn't gag, Mickey opened one eye and looked down at him incredulously. 

Mickey tightened his grip on Ian's head and guided him up and down on his dick as the redhead continued deep-throating him. It was so good that he couldn't stop himself from thrusting into Ian's warm mouth, but soon regretted it because Ian started to cough and had to ease off Mickey's penis. He grabbed Mickey's shaft with his hand and started jerking him off at the base while sucking the top half of his dick at the same time. He was using his hand to make a twisting motion up and down Mickey's dick, and Mickey felt himself getting close to the edge. 

He tried getting Ian's attention to tell him that he was about to come but the boy just kept sucking him off. Before he knew it, his body seized; Mickey moaned and came in Ian's mouth. Ian swallowed every last drop. He got off of Mickey and returned to his spot beside Mickey, leaning against the headboard. Mickey had gotten many blowjobs but he had never let the girls kiss him afterwards. The prospect of tasting his own cum disgusted him. However, when Ian leaned towards him at that moment to give him a kiss, Mickey didn't turn away. He let their lips meet without flinching. He could taste his saltiness mixed with Gallagher's own unique taste—a taste he was quickly starting to crave.

The kiss was short and then Ian sat back again. The movie was still playing, casting its glow on them. “Thanks...” Mickey said to Ian, voice low. Ian just smiled at him. “Do you want me to... uh... reciprocate...?”

Ian chuckled. “Reciprocate?” he asked, mockingly. Mickey jabbed him in the stomach with his elbow. “Okay, okay! Sorry!” He rubbed at his side. “No, I don't want you to blow me,” Ian said eventually.

Mickey was confused. Did Ian not think he would do it? Mickey wouldn't have put the offer out there if he wasn't willing to follow through. He was about to ask why not when Ian interrupted his thoughts.

“I'd rather have sex.”

And there it was. The thing Mickey _had_ actually been afraid of. He bit the corner of his bottom lip again.

Ian must have noticed. “Hey... We don't have to if you're not ready...”

Mickey took a deep breath and let it out slowly and deliberately. “It's not that... I just...” Ian put a hand on Mickey's chest and he felt himself relax. “I want to, but... I don't know what to do...” he finally spit out.

Ian turned to face Mickey. He grabbed Mickey's face with both hands and made him look at him directly. His expression was grave. “I'll teach you,” Ian said. “I'll be gentle,” he promised. He leaned forward and gave Mickey another sweet kiss. “You don't need to be scared. You can trust me.”

And Mickey nodded, because he believed him.

“Well, a good way to would be taking my pants off,” he joked. Ian got off the bed and took off his jeans, followed by his boxers. There was some kind of explosion in the movie and the room was suddenly bathed in light for a few seconds. Mickey noted that Ian's penis was only semi-hard. 

“So I guess I was right.”

“About what?” Ian wondered, confused.

“Calling you Firecrotch,” Mickey explained. 

“Yeah, yeah... Now, what can we use for lube...?” Ian mused, looking around the room. Mickey coughed and Ian shot a quizzical stare at him, eyebrows raised. After looking at him for a few seconds, Ian's face relaxed with understanding. “Mickey... did you come _prepared_?”

Mickey knew he was blushing and was thankful that the room was dark enough for Ian to possibly not notice. He pointed to his backpack. Ian walked over to where the bag lay by the armchair Mickey had been sitting in earlier that afternoon. He knelt down and unzipped it, digging through until he procured a bottle of KY and a string of condom packets. 

Ian walked back towards the bed and put the items down on the mattress. He got on his knees between Mickey's legs again. He put both hands on Mickey's thighs and rubbed him gently. He moved his hands down to hook under Mickey's knees and pulled the older boy so that he was no longer leaning against the headboard of the bed, but lying with his head on the pillow. He climbed up Mickey's body, running his hands along Mickey's abs and chest. 

“Your skin feels so good,” Ian said before covering Mickey's mouth with his lips. They kissed passionately and Mickey felt absolutely helpless again. How did Ian have this effect on him? He moved his hands to Ian's back but used one to grab his ass, tightly squeezing a cheek. Ian let out a small gasp and Mickey felt the hot breath get released in his mouth. He smiled at Ian's reaction.

“I know this is awkward and new, so I'll tell you what I'm doing each step of the way. If it hurts or if you want me to stop, just let me know. Okay?”

Mickey nodded.

Ian kissed him once more and then turned to get the lube. “So, first I'm going to loosen you up a bit.” He opened the lube and put a small amount onto his finger. “It's gonna feel cold at first, but it'll warm up.” Ian spread Mickey's legs apart with his clean hand, positioning them so that Mickey's knees were bent and so that he had enough space to fit between them. He spread some of the lube around Mickey's hole. The shithead was right—it was fucking cold.

“Hey, calm down. It'll hurt less if you can just relax...” Ian rubbed Mickey's thigh again with his clean hand and Mickey took a few steadying breaths. Ian rubbed the lube in a little circle and slowly began pushing his index finger into Mickey's ass. Mickey wasn't gonna lie—it felt wrong. This was the first time anything had gone up there and he wanted to make a joke about it being exit only, but he didn't think Gallagher would appreciate it.

Ian didn't move his finger at first. He let Mickey get used to the feeling of something foreign being inside of him.  He pulled his finger out slowly, then pushed it in again. It still burned but felt less strange that time. He continued pulling his finger in and out. The lube was warm and Ian's finger didn't hurt in him anymore. Then he added a second finger and repeated the process.

“You okay?” Ian asked. Mickey nodded again. “'Kay. I'm gonna add some more lube and add a third finger.” He pulled his fingers out and Mickey was surprised to discover that he missed their presence. It was like his butt had gotten used to the feeling already. Ian stuck the two fingers back in and Mickey felt the coldness of the additional lube. 

After a short while, Ian added his third finger. And fuck, it hurt... Mickey winced and Ian stilled his hand. “Relax, Mick...” Mickey was looking up at the ceiling of the room and trying not to overreact. This was what he had wanted—to be with Ian. He had to at least try. 

“I'm fine,” he said through gritted teeth. He let out a breath. “Keep going...”

Ian resumed fingering him. He moved slower than before, and just like the previous time, the burn eventually subsided. His asshole really was able to stretch out. 

“Did you know that the anus can stretch to almost any width? Well, with time and practice, anyway. That's how people are able to get fisted. I read about it online. And the strange part is that it will always contract back to its original size afterwards.”

Of course Gallagher would fucking know something like that. He sounded like Travis with his Lizard Man facts. “Why the fuck are you telling me this?” Mickey asked, looking down at him.

“Just something interesting I learned... thought you'd want to know, since my fingers are shoved into your butt and all...” Ian smirked.

“Yeah, laugh it up.”

Ian pulled his fingers out. He grabbed the condom strip and tore one off, opened the package, and rolled it on. He handed the KY to Mickey. “Put some lube on me,” he directed.

Mickey flipped open the cap and squeezed the tub until there was enough lube on his hand. He sat up and grabbed a hold of Ian's dick, stroking it as he covered the whole thing with the jelly. Ian was longer than him. He looked to be about 8 inches long, possibly a bit more, but he wasn't as thick as Mickey was. It was the first time Mickey had touched a penis besides his own. He felt like a clueless teenager, but Ian wasn't complaining, so he assumed he was doing it right.

“Rub me until it doesn't feel cold anymore.” Mickey obediently did as Ian said. “Okay, that's good. Lie back. I'm gonna put my penis inside you now. Remember: it hurts less if you're relaxed...”

With that said, Ian got into position. He lined himself up with Mickey's hole and pushed his dick in slowly, stopping just after his head was in. Holy fucking shit, it hurt. Mickey felt like he was being torn apart. His breathing was shallow and rapid.

“Mickey.... Mick, look at me,” Ian said. Mickey was freaking out. He honestly hadn't expected this amount of pain. Ian's voice was calm. “Hey, Mickey. Just calm down. Breathe,” he said soothingly. He took a few deep breaths, waiting for Mickey to breathe with him. “Keep breathing. Think of it like those Lamaze classes, except in reverse.”

And despite the pain, Mickey couldn't help but laugh. “Fuck you,” he said to Ian, but there was no real animosity behind the words. 

The joke must have worked because Mickey knew he'd loosened up. Ian apparently felt it too: he took it as a cue to push deeper into Mickey.

Mickey tried not to focus on the pain. He let his mind wander back to the amazing blowjob he'd gotten not even half an hour ago. Gallagher's mouth had felt so warm and tight. He wondered if that was how his ass felt to Ian. 

Ian leaned down so that he was lying on top of Mickey's chest. He put his arms under Mickey's and rested the majority of his weight on his forearms. “Does it hurt too much?” he asked Mickey softly.

Mickey gritted his teeth but shook his head. 

“You don't have to act so tough about it. I won't think less of you if you're honest with me...”

Mickey looked at Ian and then somewhat bobbed his head. “Yeah, it hurts like a motherfucker. Why would anyone want to do this?”

Ian smiled and kissed Mickey on his nose. “It gets better, I promise. You'll see.” He started thrusting. He was gentle at first, moving very slowly. He kissed Mickey on his neck, right under his jaw. Mickey relaxed a bit and Ian picked up the pace, pushing in a bit deeper and changing his angle just a little. 

Mickey suddenly felt something like electricity in his dick. It was a pulsing sensation, in time to Ian's thrusts. His erection returned and he let out a moan. “What the hell _is_ that?” he asked Ian.

“Heh, oh. It's probably my cock rubbing against your prostate,” Ian explained.

Ian continued fucking Mickey while kissing him all along his neck. Mickey held on tight to Ian's shoulders, bracing himself for each thrust that sent a wave of pure pleasure right to his penis. He had no way to describe it except to say that he felt “full.” His legs were wrapped around Ian's body, crossed at the ankles. Mickey was trying not to moan but he wasn't succeeding. Ian leaned to one side and used his hand to jerk off Mickey as he was moving inside him. He was grunting with the effort of his thrusts. 

“I'm gonna come soon,” Mickey said into Ian's ear, and a few moments later, he felt the warm jizz spew from his dick and land between their chests.

His muscles clenched during his orgasm and he heard Ian mutter, “Oh, shit, Mickey!” as the younger boy came only a few moments after him.

Ian was basically splayed on top of Mickey, with his dick still inside him. They laid like that for a long time. Mickey was completely and utterly content, and didn't make any attempt to move. Neither did Ian.

Ian was the one to break the silence. “Wanna shower? The pamphlet downstairs says there's a rain shower in this room...”

“What the fuck's a rain shower?”

“You know, where the water kinda falls down all around you so that you feel like it's raining...”

Mickey tried to shrug but it was basically impossible in the position they were in. “Yeah, a shower sounds good,” he agreed. 

They got up and went into the bathroom. Ian turned on the shower as Mickey peed. “Hey, do you have to do that with me in here?”

“Gallagher, you just had your dick up my ass. You're really gonna make a big deal about me cleansing the pipes in front of you?”

Ian laughed. “Cleansing the pipes?”

“What, you didn't read about that during your little online research session about expanding assholes? You're supposed to piss after you have sex. Learned it in health class.”

Ian got into the shower. “I don't know what part I'm more shocked about: that you went to health class or that you actually paid attention and learned something!”

 _Oh yeah, Gallagher?_ Mickey spitefully flushed the toilet, grinning when he heard Ian yelp from the sudden cold water. He waited for the water temperature to balance out again before joining him in the shower. 


	20. Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My husband and I will be taking a babymoon for the next 10 days, so I wanted to post one more chapter before we left! Hope everyone has a good Victoria Day and/or Memorial Day Weekend!

**Chapter 20**

(Mickey POV)

They woke up the next morning in a tangle of sheets and limbs. They were naked and wrapped around each other, Mickey's head resting comfortably on Ian's chest, one of the redhead's arms and legs propped over Mickey's back and butt, respectively. Ian was holding on to Mickey's body possessively.

Mickey opened his eyes, wishing desperately that he had remembered to close the window the night before. The incessant chirping of birds was giving him a headache. They'd also forgotten to draw the curtains shut, and Mickey hoped nobody had witnessed anything he wouldn't want them seeing. 

He placed his hand gingerly on Ian's body and traced the outline of his abs. He loved that Ian was in such good shape. His chest rose and fell with his breaths. Mickey tilted his head and planted a soft kiss on Ian's pec. Ian  moved underneath him and the grip he had on Mickey's back tightened as he woke up.

“Hey.”

“Mornin',” Mickey said, kissing Ian's chest again.

“Mmm,” Ian moaned, smile playing on his lips. “This is nice...” Ian rolled him over without warning, so that Mickey was on his back with the redhead on top of him again. Mickey saw Ian look at the alarm beside the bed. “So, why are you waking me up at 7 in the morning?”

Mickey chuckled. “I can't help it, man. I'm already at work by this time,” he explained.

“But you know breakfast isn't until 9, right?” 

“Yeah, sorry...”

“Don't be sorry...” Ian drawled. He looked down at Mickey's face and smirked. “We'll just have to come up with something to do until then.” They passionately locked lips, neither one caring about the other's morning breath.

“Okay,” Mickey said, delicately holding Ian at bay with his hand pressed against the boy. “Just let me close the window first. If I have to hear those fucking birds for another minute I'm gonna go out and find some fucking rocks to throw at them.”

Mickey got up after Ian moved off of him. He walked to the window and proceeded to close it, and then unhooked the curtains on both windows and let them fall into place, effectively restoring their privacy. 

“Hurry up,” Ian said, motioning Mickey over. “There are still some things I want to teach you.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah...” Ian grabbed Mickey by the wrist and pulled him onto the bed to lie face down. “Lesson number two: rimming.”

Two hours later, they were dressed and had shoved what few clothes they had brought along back into their backpacks. They made their way to the dining room, smiling and holding hands. As soon as Dena greeted them,  Mickey let his hand drop from Ian's grasp, not noticing the sudden hurt that flashed on Ian's face. The breakfast was delicious.

They checked out after eating and drove back to NYC. Mickey was fascinated by the feeling of Ian's long fingers laced between his own. They just felt like they belonged there—like they were made to fit between Mickey's. 

They'd been driving for about half an hour before Ian turned down the radio. Mickey looked over at him and saw that he clearly had something to say, but when Ian didn't say anything, Mickey had to. “I know you want to say something so just spit it out, fucker.”

Ian sighed. “I thought I'd imagined it.”

Mickey waited but Ian didn't elaborate. He grunted. “Imagined what, Firecrotch?”

“I don't know. Us... This... You...” 

Mickey took his eyes off the road for a second to give Ian a confused look, urging him to continue.

“Look, I know you don't like talking about feelings or whatever, but this is not about your feelings. It's about mine.” He looked at Mickey and waited for him to nod before starting. “Well... You would always come visit me at the store for no reason, and I loved it. I loved talking to you. You made the time fly by. I had a crush on you from the start, but I knew you weren't gay, so I was content to just be around you as a friend, even if it would never lead to anything...” Mickey chanced a look at Ian and saw his cheeks were already crimson. He squeezed Ian's hand reassuringly.

“But then that day in the backyard when you thought I'd knocked up Mandy, and you were on top of me... and beating the crap out of me...” Ian cringed, but continued, “I felt your hard-on. I saw the way you looked at me, and I thought, ' _finally, I can tell him how I feel...'_ , but you never came to talk to be. Nobody explained anything, and then you were just gone...”

“When I came to visit for Christmas, I didn't know how things stood between us. We hadn't talked since Mandy's pregnancy. And after that, I wasn't sure what was going on between you and Sara. It took me so long to get up the nerve to ask you about her, and I was so relieved when you said there wasn't anything going on. You bought me that hoodie—I swear, I wear it so often it's starting to thin out! But then we were standing under the mistletoe... and you ran away... and we didn't talk again until New Year's Eve...”

Mickey's stomach fell, but Ian wasn't done.

“I kissed you, and I knew you kissed me back. In that moment, I was so happy... I felt your hands on my back and your dick was pressing against me and I thought that was it... That was the beginning...” He sighed again. “Boy was I wrong...”

“After that, I convinced myself that I'd been imagining everything. I tried to get you out of my head. I hooked up with this kid from ROTC, but he was such a fucking spaz... I started going to that gay club I told you about, where I met Lloyd... and I think I managed to do it...to convince myself that you didn't have any feelings for me at all. Even the last couple of months, when we were texting, I was _still_ sure we were nothing more than friends.”

“Those two times I fell asleep in your bed during Spring Break? Those were probably the best nights' sleeps I can remember having, like, ever. Minus last night, of course. Because unlike this morning, when I woke up those times, it was with a sudden panic in my chest, thinking you were going to flip out and beat the crap out of me... again...”

“I'm sorry, Ian... I...” He glanced at Ian again and saw that there were tears forming in the redhead's eyes. Mickey's heart couldn't handle this. He flicked his signal up and pulled over onto the right shoulder. He put the car in park, turned on the hazards, and turned to look at Ian. “I'm so sorry, I was a fucking jerk. I was... I was scared, okay? And I didn't know what to do. Please, tell me what I can now do to fix it.”

“No, Mickey. You don't understand. I'm not upset... I'm _happy_.” A single tear fell from Ian's eye. “I just wanted to tell you that. I've wanted this for so long and it feels... I don't know... like I've made it all up.”

Mickey grabbed Ian by the back of the neck and pulled him close so that they're lips met. “You are not making it up. I... I was an idiot... and I didn't know how I felt.” He kissed Ian again with even more ferocity. He wanted to make Ian feel better. He wanted to lighten the mood in the car, which had become almost suffocating. “You should have seen me these last few months. I was a wreck.” He surprised himself with his candidness.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mickey confirmed. “I mean, I hadn't seen you since March, and when you left, it was like a piece of me went with you. It took me until summer to realize that, and I honestly don't know what I would have done if you hadn't texted me. It's fucking August now. I had 5 months to think about what the fuck would happen when you came back, and I was definitely not expecting it to go like _this_.” He motioned between the two of them. 

Ian smiled. “You have Mandy to thank for that. She gave me your number one night. Said I had to talk to you.” Mickey grunted. Fucking Mandy was always sticking her nose into other people's business. 

“But seriously, Mick... You didn't have to plan this whole West Point trip. We could have just talked...”

Mickey shrugged. “It was for your birthday. I knew it would make you happy. And it sure as hell didn't hurt my chances, right?” He stuck his tongue out slightly into the corner of mouth and bit the tip. Gallagher smirked back at him, and Mickey could see that the boy had calmed down. He resumed driving and they were back in no time. Mickey dropped Ian off at the apartment with their bags and gave him his key so he could go upstairs. He dropped the rental car off at Enterprise and took the bus back.

Ian was lying on his stomach on Mickey's bed when he got back. His legs were bent at the knee and crossed at the ankles in the air above the pillows, and he was reading through his West Point materials. He'd left the door unlocked. 

“I'm going to ace the physical exams.”

“No doubt...” Mickey said, smiling at how happy Ian was. He kicked his sneakers off and plopped onto the bed. He tried to push the thought of Gallagher joining the army from his mind. He had just gotten Ian back, he didn't want to lose him. But a nasty idea started forming in his mind then. Gallagher wasn't _his._ Not at all. 

He sat up and leaned on his elbow for support. “Firecrotch... Can I ask you something?”

“What's up, Mick?”

“What happened to that geezer you were seeing? You kinda just stopped mentioning him.”

Ian was quiet and Mickey prodded him with his knee.

“It's a long story...”

“I'm all ears,” Mickey said sarcastically.

“Well, actually it's not that long. He turned out to be Jimmy's dad, so I haven't really seen him since then.”

“Jimmy...?”

“Oh. Yeah... I forgot you didn't hear about that either. Steve is Jimmy. He lied about his name for work. Turns out he's actually from a rich family...”

Mickey lay back and listened to Ian talk while he relaxed. 

His phone made a beep and he flipped it open to read the message.

[ **5:16pm Mandy:** leavin work now. c u soon.]

Mickey was snapped back to reality, because he knew the happy bubble he'd been in for the last day and a half was about to pop. He had to made a choice about whether or not tell Mandy about him and Ian. If he told her, it would mean coming out to his sister, which he was really not ready to do. He couldn't even say the words to himself yet. The other option would be pretending that there was nothing going on between them. It was obvious that the latter would be easier, but there were two things about it he was _not_ looking forward to: the disappointment and resentment Ian would feel, and the sneaking around. 

Mickey didn't want to even consider not being able to _be_ with Ian. He wanted to sleep next to him and hold his hand, and not worry about stealing kisses when they were alone. If they only had the week together, he wasn't going to waste it being a pussy.

It took Mickey a minute or two to realize that Ian was watching him. “What are you thinking about?”

Mickey sighed. “I don't know what to say to Mandy...”

Ian's face fell. “You don't have to tell her if you're not ready.”

Of course the fucker would say something selfless like that. Mickey picked up one of his pillows and threw it at Ian, and voiced his earlier thought. “You think I'm gonna waste this week sneaking around? I just have no clue what to say, or where to start.”

Ian hit Mickey back with the pillow, but the older boy blocked his face and reached to tickle Gallagher. Mickey got on top of Ian and straddled him for a change. When Ian saw that he had no way of escaping, the tickling turned to making out. 

“Hey douche-bags, I brought back some leftovers--” Mandy stood in the doorway with a bag of food in her hand. Her jaw hung open. She continued to stare at the scene before her for about 10 seconds before she grabbed the doorknob and yanked the door shut and walked away.

Mickey dropped his face to hide it against Ian's chest, and Ian started laughing hysterically.

“Well, at least you don't have to worry about what to say to her now!” he said, when he had calmed down enough to make a coherent sentence. Mickey just groaned in response.


	21. Coney Island

**Chapter 21**

(Mandy POV)

Mandy walked to the kitchen and put the bag of leftovers onto the counter. What the fuck had she just walked in on? Well, that was really a stupid question. She _knew_ what she had seen. But she was just so surprised! Ian had been right! And Mickey was finally smiling again!

She went to her room, grabbed a set of clean clothes, and got into the shower. By the time she was done, her brother and her best friend were already sitting at the kitchen table and eating the leftovers she'd brought. Mandy took the third seat at the table. She looked at Ian first. He was trying to keep his expression serious, but she could see the smile in his eyes. She moved her gaze to Mickey. Her poor brother looked so embarrassed and guilty, she almost felt bad for making him wait so long before saying anything. His eyes kept darting to Ian and he was biting his bottom lip. 

Mandy grinned, in an attempt to show him that she wasn't angry nor bothered, but he wasn't looking at her. “So, you're into guys now?” she finally asked him.

Mickey still didn't make eye contact. “No...” he muttered.

“No?” Ian asked, warily.

“No.” Mickey's response was more firm. “Just Ian,” he added, peeking up at Mandy.

Mandy thought about that. Well, she supposed that was possible. Mickey had sex with girls quite often, until recently. Maybe he was just bisexual...

“How long have you liked Ian then?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. She knew she was being a bit nosy, but she couldn't help it.

Mickey sighed and gave Ian what looked like an apologetic smile. “I think I always knew; I just didn't want to face it.”

He finally met her stare. “Are you done harassing me now?”

Mandy nodded, grinning. 

Mickey got up and pulled Ian by the neck of his t-shirt. “Come on...” he ordered, dragging Ian to his room.

With the boys gone, Mandy took her time drying her hair. She then cleaned up the empty food containers they'd left of the table and laid out the ingredients for the birthday cake she wanted to bake for Ian. She'd gotten a recipe from Mrs. Lombardi in the morning. Taking out her phone, she typed out a text to Travis.

[ **6:48pm Mandy:** don't 4get bout Ian's surprise party 2nite! i know Matt has off, so i expect both of u 2 b there!]

By the time she had the cake in the oven, Mickey had left for work. Ian walked out and joined her in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and smiled at her. 

“You were right all along...” she said, smiling right back.

“Apparently...” Ian sighed. “Well, I just wish I hadn't given up. I feel like I wasted the last 8 months. Maybe I wouldn't have screwed Jimmy's dad!”

Mandy laughed and shoved Ian's shoulder; his elbow slipped off the counter. “What is it with you and married men?” she teased. He laughed in turn and stuck his finger in the mixing bowl, then licked the red velvet cake batter off, grinning. 

They spent the rest of the evening just hanging out like they used to. Mandy took the cake out to cool before icing it. They drank a few beers and talked about what they expected from their senior year. Ian told Mandy about the trip to West Point and showed her some of the brochures he'd been obsessed with since getting back. 

“The best part is that I'll be so close to you... and Mickey...” He was practically blushing.

“Did you two talk about it?” She didn't have to explain what she meant by 'it'.

“Not exactly. This is Mickey we're talking about, right? He's not the biggest talker in the world. I don't know if forcing him to discuss what he's feeling and whether or not this is a “relationship” is really the best thing to do right now.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah... I mean, it's clearly _something..._ but we haven't defined what that thing is. I'll give him some time to figure it out. I don't want him to feel pressured or uncomfortable or anything. I'm just really happy right now, regardless.”

Mandy got up and brought over two more beers.

Ian thankfully accepted the beer and drank half the bottle before working up the courage to say what was on his mind. “Hey Mands?” Mandy knew her friend well enough to be able to read his expression. 

“Hmm?” She knew he was going to ask her something that he was embarrassed about. She could see it all over his face.

“Would you mind not mentioning it to everyone? I don't think he's ready. He didn't even want the lady at the bed and breakfast to see us holding hands.”

Mandy's face fell. She put a hand on Ian's shoulder and hoped the gesture would show him the sympathy she felt for him. Mandy knew her brother was emotionally stunted, for lack of a better word. He was a Milkovich, after all. They didn't talk about their fucking feelings... but she never took him for being a coward. They lived in New York, for God's sake. It wasn't the fucking South! 

She held her tongue. It was Ian's birthday and she didn't want to sour his mood. She supposed she could understand Mickey's point of view. It was a big thing to come out, and being out of the closet in front of people, friends and strangers both, went against everything they had learned. She knew that South Side mentality/fear was going to be a problem for him and Ian, but she hoped Ian would be strong enough to wait it out. She had more faith in her brother than most people did. 

They had Chinese take-out for dinner and then headed over to the bar at around midnight. Mandy knew it wasn't really a surprise party to Ian since he'd seen the cake already, but she appreciated that he still pretended to make her happy.

Mandy introduced Ian to Travis' boyfriend Matt. She'd only hung out with him a few times, but he was attractive as ever—maybe even cuter without all the leather and gelled hair that he always donned for work. He seemed like a really nice guy. Matt suggested that they all come to dinner at his apartment in Brooklyn on Saturday. He said lived right near Coney Island so they make a whole day out of it, and Mandy was really excited about the prospect of a day at the beach. The only convincing Mickey needed was for it to be an early dinner because he had work that night, and Matt's response was that he was in the same boat so it wouldn't be a problem.

The rest of the week passed without a hitch. Mandy was busy working her ass off because she'd be cutting down on her hours when school started up again the following Monday. She tried to give the boys as much privacy as she could when she was around the apartment. They were constantly being all cute together whenever she and Travis weren't around. She felt bad the few times she walked into the kitchen and saw them cuddling on the couch while watching TV because Mickey stopped as soon as he noticed her. She tried not to laugh at the fact that her brother was now a cuddler—it was just too adorable and so out of character.  

She didn't feel bad for spending time with Brian at nights because she knew Ian wasn't alone and just killing time in the apartment. He told her he would go to Sullivan's and sit at the bar, idly talking to Mickey until the older boy was done with work and ready to close up for the night. 

If Travis or Brian had noticed anything about Mickey and Ian, they sure as hell hadn't mentioned it to Mandy. She was fine with that, though. It meant she didn't have to lie or be evasive. She'd kept her mouth shut, like Ian had asked her to. It wasn't that she was keeping it a secret, exactly—she just wasn't announcing anything.

Saturday finally rolled around and it was a beautiful day. They took the bus over to the F train in Flushing which took them directly to Coney Island. They passed by the Cyclone, Coney Island's famous wooden roller-coaster, but it was closed for repairs. They walked over to the boardwalk with their folding chairs and towels, and set up a spot on the beach. Mandy had insisted on getting there early enough to beat the crowds. 

When they were settled in, Mandy put on sunscreen and passed the bottle around. She was only half paying attention to the rest of the group, still focused on rubbing the cream into her skin, when she saw Mickey violently shove Ian's arm away from him. Her brother got up and walked towards the water, anger radiating off of him. 

Ian was frowning. She gave him a quizzical look. “I just tried to put some sunscreen on him...” he explained in a low voice that only she was able to hear. Mandy shook her head in disapproval. Ian got up and dutifully followed Mickey to the water. 

She told the other boys that she would stay and watch their stuff while they swam, since she wanted to do some tanning. She read a magazine while they played in the waves. Eventually, the boys walked to the pier and started jumping off into the water below, despite the fact that there were signs everywhere saying that diving off the pier wasn't allowed. She smirked—as if a sign was going to stop them. Their dives created quite the crowd of spectators. It was a steep drop, after all; people were even taking pictures. 

The boys came back exhausted and laughing, talking about their somersaults and Brian's terrible belly-flop. Her poor boyfriend's whole stomach and chest were so red that it looked like someone had dragged him down the street. He grimaced as he dried himself off with the towel Mandy handed him. 

At lunch time, Matt went and bought hot dogs and cheese fries for everyone from the original Nathan's. He insisted that they all absolutely had try deep fried Oreos for dessert from the boardwalk. He and Travis went to get some and returned with the treats in addition to some classic funnel cakes. Ian blew some of the powdered sugar off of his funnel cake into Mickey's face, and Mandy expected her brother to flip out again. She was relieved when all he did was smirk and steal Ian's Oreo in retaliation. 

The weather only got nicer as the day progressed. Matt and Travis left early to go back to his apartment and get everything ready for dinner, but they made sure Brian knew how to get there from the beach before leaving. Mandy finally went swimming after she felt like she had gotten enough color. She would never be dark like Sara—she'd come to accept that that just wasn't possible for a Milkovich—but she was content with not being paste-white anymore as a result of spending most of the summer at the diner.

Matt's apartment was nice. It wasn't anything crazy, but it was on the first floor and he had a deck in the back where he had set up the table and was already grilling some steaks. Travis passed them each a beer as they walked outside.

“This is a really cool apartment,” Ian said to Matt when they all sat at the table and began eating. “I like the neighborhood too. I always heard negative things about Brooklyn, but this doesn't seem as bad as everyone says.” Mandy picked a rare steak and loaded her plate up with salad and oven roasted potatoes.

“Yeah, thanks man. It's close to the city and the crime in this area has really been going down since the younger crowd started moving in. There are a lot of families with little kids, so they created a neighborhood watch.” 

Mickey, Mandy and Ian all snorted at the same time. When the rest of the guys looked at them questioningly, Mandy explained that something like that would never work where they were from.

“Well, the closest thing we have to a neighborhood watch would be a bunch of us walking around with wooden bats. This summer, some asshole on the bus exposed himself to my little sister Debbie.” He shook his head. “We filed a police report but that did a lot of good,” he added, full of sarcasm. 

“My brother Lip and I looked online at the list of registered sex offenders in the area. Some asshole child rapist named Blake Collins had moved in three blocks down from our house, so a bunch of us grabbed our bats and went to give the son of a bitch a beat-down. It turned out to be a woman. An 8th grade teacher, actually, who had screwed one of her students. She was really hot.” 

At Mandy's raised eyebrow, Ian said, “What? I can be objective... She was blonde and had a nice body. Anyway, it was pretty awkward. She said she had loved the boy that she supposedly raped and had served five years for it. She was out on probation. We left after that, but my Lip was convinced he could prove she was still a pedophile, despite having served some time in jail. He went over to her place and seduced her, and took some pictures with his cell phone. He hasn't stopped talking about the amazing blowjob she gave him, and it's been like a month now. I don't think he's gonna do anything with the pictures. I'm sure he wouldn't want to ruin his chances of a repeat.”

“That's fucked up, man,” Brian said. Ian nodded.

Mickey was scowling. “You never said anything about that before...”

“Your brothers were there with us when we first went to the house. I didn't want to bring it up.”

Mandy looked at Mickey. Ian had made a good choice in not telling them. Hearing about her brothers, even now, made Mandy nervous, and she could see the same reaction mirrored in Mickey's eyes. She didn't know if Terry had said anything about Mickey stealing the weapons or the car, but they'd definitely want their cut of the profits if they found out. Their whole family was full of greedy motherfuckers. 

No doubt sensing the sudden tension, Travis decided to change the subject. “So guys, Matt asked me to move in with him.”

That did the trick. The previous conversation was forgotten and everyone turned to look at the long-haired boy. They'd only been dating since June. She hadn't realized things had gotten so serious already.

“Seriously bro?” Brian asked.

“Yeah. I know it's fast and all, but...”

Matt interrupted him. “Look, I have the space, and we've talked about it a lot. It's not a big deal. It beats sleeping on a futon, right?” He gave Travis a kiss on the cheek. “This way Trav doesn't have to waste any time we could have together traveling back and forth between Brooklyn and Queens.”

Travis looked at his friends guiltily. 

“That's great news,” Mandy said. “I don't think two months is fast. You've found someone who appreciates you. You're right to not want to waste any time. When you know, you know, right?” She flashed him a smile, but flicked her eyes to Mickey. Her brother was staring down at his plate, biting his lip.

They finished eating dinner. The food had been delicious. There wasn't even a single potato left. Mandy always believed that the sign of truly delicious food was when you didn't need to add any sauces like ketchup to it. If it's good, it should taste good alone. Tonight, she hadn't even added steak sauce to her meal. Mandy made a mental note to ask Matt what seasonings he'd used on the potatoes.

“So Ian, when are you coming back to visit next?” Travis wondered.

“I'm not entirely sure. I was hoping that I could come again around Thanksgiving, but I don't think my sister would believe another lame ROTC excuse. Especially not on an important family holiday.”

“Can't you just tell her the truth?” Brian asked.

Ian cringed. Mandy didn't miss the quick flash of his eyes to Mickey. “Um... it's not that easy...” Ian said, vaguely. 

Mickey got up then. “I gotta get back. Gotta be at the bar in like an hour.” When Ian put his napkin down on his plate and made a move to get up too, Mickey put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “You guys stay here. It's Ian's last night. I'll see you back at the apartment. Thanks for the food,” he added, nodding in thanks to Matt.

No one had argued with Mickey. Ian made every effort to be polite and engage in their conversations, but Mandy could tell that his heart wasn't in it. He was quiet during the entire train ride back. 

“Hey, think you can go to the bar and cover for Mickey tonight?” she whispered to Brian.

“Why?”

“You know... Ian's leaving tomorrow morning. I'm sure he wants to hang out with us and just didn't ask because you covered for him on Monday night.” She hoped that would be enough of an answer to satisfy Brian.

“Sure, no problem.”

Mandy smiled at her boyfriend. He was so nice that sometimes she had a hard time believing this was really her life. 

“Thanks baby,” she whispered again before kissing him sweetly.


	22. Another Goodbye

**Chapter 22**

(Mickey POV)

He sat on the train by himself. _Might as well get used to being alone,_ he thought. Try as he might to ignore it, Ian was leaving again, and just like the last time, Mickey had no idea when he would be back. 

Mickey sighed. The week had been perfect. He'd been as honest with Ian as he could have been when they were at the bed and breakfast near West Point, and it had paid off. Gallagher had felt the same way about him. Even though Mickey had been scared, Ian had taken care of him. He'd taken the chance, despite his fears and the _huge_ deal talking so openly about his emotions had been, and it had worked out. 

They'd spent every moment together since then. He loved that Ian even came to hang out with him at the bar at night while he worked. It wasn't awkward; they hung out like normal friends. Nothing had really changed in that sense. 

He was thankful that Ian hadn't been too clingy. In fact, Mickey hadn't thought about it until now, but Ian was being really understanding about how uncomfortable Mickey was with the touching and shit when they were in public. Mickey wasn't ready for people to know his business.  

_I'm not a faggot._

He kept telling himself that. He and Ian were best friends, and the fact that they had mind-blowing sex was a bonus. He was embarrassed at the thought of anyone thinking he was gay. That wasn't how he was raised. It wasn't who he was. A hole is a hole and sex is sex.

 _But it isn't just the sex, is it?_

No, it was everything else too. Being around the redhead filled Mickey's life with light, but now he felt like he was slipping back into darkness.

Mickey scratched his shoulder and winced. He was already getting a sunburn. He should have fucking let Gallagher put that sunscreen on him at the beach. _Dammit._ Mickey knew he had overreacted. Nobody would have thought twice about seeing Ian help Mickey. For all they knew, they were just friends. He had been overly paranoid and he knew it, but at that moment, he had smacked Ian's hand away on instinct. By the time Mickey even realized what he had done, it had been too late to take it back. He'd stormed off into the water. 

To his relief, the redhead had followed him. Mickey hadn't been able to apologize, but he'd held Ian's hand under the water, and he hoped that Gallagher had understood. The sunburn was a tangible example of the pain his own stupidity caused him.

He got to Flushing and walked out of the subway. Finding the bus to College Point was easy. He waited in line for only a few minutes before it arrived, and he took it straight to the bar.

Mickey's thoughts moved momentarily to the conversation at Matt's house. Ian had seen his brothers. Were they looking for him and Mandy? Mickey wasn't ashamed to admit that he was scared. His brothers were almost as bad as Terry. He'd raised them in his image, after all. Maybe Iggy was a little better than the other two, but when money was involved, Mickey couldn't be sure. Was Iggy even out of jail? Mickey shook his head to clear it of thoughts of his family in Chicago. Mandy was the one that mattered, and she was safe as long as he was around to protect her. He hoped.

Mickey wished he could be sure that Ian was safe too. But how could he do that from so far away? There was so much he wouldn't be able to protect him from: the possibility of some creepy, old pedophile living near Gallagher; the chance that someone would find out Ian was gay and beat the living shit out of him; a thief going into the Kash and Grab with a gun... The list was endless and Mickey got a hollow, aching feeling in his gut from just thinking about it.

How would Mickey survive being so far from him? And for God knows how long? They hadn't talked about Ian leaving, so they hadn't discussed what things would be like while they were apart. Would they text? Would Ian go back to fucking that geezer Lloyd? 

Mickey greeted Tom when he walked into Sullivan's. He washed his hands in the sink and put on his black waist apron from under the bar. The place wasn't too busy for a Saturday night. Mickey looked at the clock, thinking about how much longer he'd have to be away from Ian. Not just this night, but after he left the following morning.

At dinner, Ian had said that Fiona wouldn't let him come visit unless he told her the truth. Did he mean the truth about Mickey and Mandy living in NY and the reason behind it? Or about whatever was going on between the two boys.

 _What is going on? Are we_ together _now?_

Mickey didn't have the answer. He knew how he felt about the redhead. But were they a couple? Did this count as a relationship? Was Gallagher his boyfriend? He supposed this was something he and Ian had to talk about. Mickey knew for sure that he didn't want Ian fucking anyone else. Maybe that would be a good place to start the conversation. 

What Travis and Matt had said about not wasting time that they could spend together had reminded him of this thoughts from Ian's birthday. Mickey had decided that he didn't want to waste his one week with Ian hiding from Mandy. He'd been ready to tell her the truth, despite having no clue where to begin. His mind had been made up, and it wasn't a difficult decision to make. So why was he being such a pussy? It wasn't like he would have to be the one to talk to Fiona. 

Brian came into the bar about an hour and a half after Mickey had started his shift. “Mandy wants me to cover for you tonight. You should go hang out with them again before Ian leaves tomorrow.”

Mickey looked at his friend, unsure of whether or not he was being manipulated. If he was, it was entirely Mandy's doing. Brian appeared to genuinely want to help Mickey out. 

Hiding his relief, Mickey thanked him. He took his apron off and tossed it back to its place under the bar, then left. He walked back to the apartment quickly. He hated talking, but time was running out and he needed to fix things with Gallagher before the kid left. He needed to make sure Ian knew he'd be here waiting for him, as long as it took.

He got inside and walked upstairs. Each step seemed more difficult than the last. He opened the door silently and walked down the hall. Mickey poked his head into the kitchen slowly. The lights were off but there was a glow from the TV bouncing off the walls around the room. Ian was sitting alone on the couch.

“Hey...” Mickey said softly, tentatively, as if testing the waters. He didn't know how Ian was feeling. He had no clue. Ian didn't turn to look at him.

“Hey.”

Mickey walked over and sat on the couch next to Ian, facing him at an angle. “Where's Mandy?” he asked casually.

“She's in her room. She said tanning always makes her tired. I don't know if that's bullshit or not, but she's already out for the night.”

“Oh.”

They sat without saying anything for a few minutes. Mickey bit his lower lip. All he wanted to do was hold Gallagher close and pretend like things would be okay, but he couldn't be sure of that.

“Listen...”

Ian finally turned away from the TV and looked at Mickey. What he saw in the younger boy's eyes made Mickey want to cry. It was the same expression Ian had had in the car on the drive back from West Point.

Mickey gritted his teeth. He had to say what he felt. He _had_ too.  

“I don't want you to leave me.” 

Mickey almost choked on the words, but he managed to get them out, somehow. 

He reached out and grabbed Ian's hand. “I mean... I know you have to go. I know... But... I want you to come back as soon as possible. If that means you have to tell your sister the truth, then so be it.” He sighed. “Who am I to make you keep lying to her?” Mickey laced his fingers through Ian's. 

“Will you keep in touch when you're home?” Mickey wondered aloud. Ian's eyes glistened in the light of the TV. He blinked and a tear fell slowly down his cheek.

“Of course I will, you idiot,” Ian answered. He laughed then, and it was infectious. Mickey chuckled softly and let out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding. “I'll text you every day. Might even call, if you play your cards right.”

Mickey shoved Ian leg with his foot. “Are you gonna go back to screwing Jimmy's dad?”

Ian stopped laughing. He must have realized where the conversation was headed now. He shook his head.

“I don't want you fucking anyone else.”

“I don't want you fucking anyone else either,” Ian said.

Mickey nodded. “Good. Then we're on the same page.”

“What page is that, exactly?”

Mickey smirked. “You're gonna make me say it, aren't you, Firecrotch?”

Ian gave Mickey that evil smile of his and waited for an answer to his question.

“Okay... I fucking like you, alright? As if you couldn't tell! But that's not all... I _care_ about you. I don't want you screwing around, and I don't intend on fucking anyone else either. I guess that makes us a couple or some shit?” It wasn't really a question, even though Mickey looked at Ian with his eyebrow raised, waiting for confirmation. 

Ian put his hands on either side of Mickey's face and pulled him closer. They stared into each other's eyes for a long time. Mickey didn't even know how much time had passed. Neither one said a word. Mickey could feel his heart hammering through his chest. He'd done it. He'd told Gallagher how he felt. So why was Ian still torturing him? 

Eventually Ian closed his eyes, but still kept his hands framing Mickey's face. He leaned forward so that his forehead was resting against Mickey's. “Yeah,” Ian breathed, almost imperceptibly. “A couple.” He smiled and kissed Mickey. It was gentle and conveyed so many emotions. Mickey was overwhelmed. He grabbed Ian behind his neck and pulled him closer, never wanting to let go.

They never made it to the bedroom, although it would have been an awkward scene for Travis to walk in on if he had been coming back that night. Mickey was propped up against the arm of the couch and Ian was lying on top of him like a blanket. They were so worn out from the sex that they couldn't even be bothered to open the futon. It was a warm night but the fan's light breeze was enough to keep them cool. 

Mandy woke them up the next morning with mocked gagging sounds. “Seriously? You couldn't even put boxers on?”

She covered her eyes with her hands and blindly made her way past them and into the bathroom. “I have to shower and go to work, and you have to make sure Ian gets to the bus station on time!” she shouted from behind the closed door. “And there had better be some coffee in the pot when I get out of here!” she added.

Ian yawned and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Will you make me breakfast?” he asked Mickey just before planting a kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, yeah... whatever.”

So Mickey got up and made the coffee, some eggs and toast while Ian went to the bedroom and got dressed.

“I'm all packed,” he said when he walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later. 

They heard the water from the shower turn off. Ian walked around to where Mickey stood by the stove and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind him. He rested his chin on Mickey's shoulder and kissed under his ear. “Not that I don't appreciate the view, but it sounds like Mandy will be out soon, so you should probably put some boxers on...”

Mickey snorted. He hadn't realized he was cooking naked. He handed the spatula to Ian, picked up the clothes strewn all over the floor from the prior night, and walked to his room to find something clean to wear. 

By the time he got back, the coffee was poured and the food was on plates. The meal was set on the table, and his sister was stuffing a piece of toast into her mouth. “Can you get me some butter before you sit?” she said to Mickey with her mouth full.

Instead of arguing, Mickey walked around to the fridge and got her the butter, as well as some strawberry jam for himself and peanut butter for Ian. 

“Aww, so sweet...” Mandy teased.

“I'll take the fucking butter back if you don't shut your trap, skank.” 

Mandy lifted her hands in acquiescence and Mickey plopped the tub of butter in front of her plate with a smug smile.

A few minutes later, Mandy picked up her plate and laid it in the sink. “I'm really late. Love ya, Ian. Have a good trip and call me when you get home—I don't care what time it is!” She leaned over and gave him a hug, and was out the door in a flash.

They were quiet on the subway and during the brief walk to the Port Authority. Mickey felt an ache in his stomach and chest that was only getting worse as they got closer. When they were at the right gate, Ian pushed Mickey into the nearest men's room and forced him into a stall.

“I know it's disgusting in here, but I want to say goodbye properly...” Ian was grinning, but it didn't help lift Mickey's mood in the slightest. They kissed fiercely, groping and pulling at each other's clothes. The kiss was like a battle, both boys trying to gain dominance over the other. Their tongues pushed back and forth and at one point Mickey tasted blood but couldn't be sure if it was even his own or Gallagher's.

If Ian hadn't pushed Mickey back, they wouldn't have stopped. They stood in the stall panting against each other, trying to catch their breaths.

“I'm gonna talk to Fiona. Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it,” Ian said, still trying to cheer Mickey up. It really wasn't working. There was nothing that could help. He just had to wait it out.

As he watched his boyfriend board the bus, Mickey felt like that part of him was being torn away again. He was incomplete. He stood there staring at the gate even after the bus had left, in a trance. As much as he wanted to run onto the bus and stop Gallagher, he couldn't. He couldn't go back to Chicago; there was no place for him there.

A beeping sound brought his thoughts back to the present. He reached into his pocket and flipped open his phone.

[ **9:06am Firecrotch:** stop moping!]

[ **9:06am Mickey:** make me.]

[ **9:07am Firecrotch:** go back to the apt & take a shower. u stink!]

[ **9:08am Mickey:** so bossy...]

[ **9:08am Firecrotch:** ya, i am. don't act like u don't like that bout me!]

The corner of Mickey's mouth turned up into a small smile. Gallagher was right—he _reeked_... He turned and walked away from the gate. 

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He could handle another three months. He didn't have a choice, did he...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter was supposed to be a stream-of-consciousness kind of thing, so sorry if it was a little weird.


	23. Cheater

**Chapter 23**

(Mandy POV)

Mandy was almost asleep when she got a text message from Ian.

[ **1:16am Ian:** just got home, safe and sound]

[ **1:16am Ian:** everyone's asleep]

[ **1:18am Mandy:** how was the bus ride?]

[ **1:19am Ian:** uneventful]

[ **1:20am Mandy:** let me know how ur classes go 2moro]

[ **1:22am Ian:** same w/ urs]

[ **1:29am Ian:** hey, Mands...?]

[ **1:31am Mandy:** ??]

[ **1:32am Ian:** can u pls keep an eye on mickey... make sure he doesn't get too depressed?]

[ **1:34am Mandy:** i'll try]

[ **1:35am Ian:** thx]

[ **1:35am Ian:** goodnight]

[ **1:36am Mandy:** nite]

She put her phone back on the charger and passed out.

Mandy's senior year started without a hitch. She absolutely loved her classes so far, which she felt was unnatural for a Milkovich to think. But then again, she was the only girl in her immediate family, so maybe she was just wired differently than the others.

About a week into the new semester, Mandy decided to give Ian a call. After a brief run down of their respective classes, Ian told her about how their cousin Patrick had tried to take their house away. Apparently he had heard of their Aunt Ginger's not-so-recent passing during the Gallaghers' custody battle over the summer and had submitted a fake will that left the house to him. Ian said that he wasn't sure why Patrick had waited until now to start trying to take the house, but that the family had been trying all week to figure out a solution. Apparently, his little brother Carl had even tried killing Patrick with rat poison. Mandy said it was too bad she and Mickey had left Chicago because she was sure her brother would have gladly threatened Patrick to back the fuck off.

Ian told Mandy that, aside from the house drama, his brother Lip's psycho ex-girlfriend Karen had come back to town. Mandy knew about Karen Jackson and her fucked up relationship with Lip Gallagher. The slut had slept with Frank, gotten married to a chump named Jody and had gotten pregnant (with what everyone thought was Lip's baby). The baby had been born with Down Syndrome, and was clearly Asian. Lip had been devastated  because he had been convinced that the baby was his, and had been even more upset when Karen had abandoned the baby and left town. Now that she was back, Ian said that Lip had fallen right back into her net, and he was worried that Lip would let himself get stuck in a life in South Side that he was much too smart for. He didn't want his brother to give up on his future and the chance of going to college. Lip would be graduating at the end of the semester and Ian was sure he could get into any school he wanted to if he could just get around to applying.

It wasn't until the mention of college that Mandy had asked Ian how his West Point application was coming along. Ian said the application was due soon but that he needed a recommendation from a Congressman or Senator. He was in the process of writing the cover letters and filling out those applications. He told her that the politicians got so many requests each year that he was a little worried, but that Lip knew someone from when he was helping a college professor out with a government contract who might get Ian an “in” with getting his nomination.

Finally, Ian asked Mandy about how Mickey was doing. She confessed that she hadn't seen much of her brother, except after school and on the weekends. Mickey had been quiet and had been keeping to himself for most of the week. Ian said he had been texting him every day and that he seemed to be alright, just a bit bummed because Ian was putting off talking to Fiona until they resolved the whole Cousin Patrick/house situation.

Ian had promised to call Mandy back in a couple of weeks when he had more credit on his cell phone. She's said goodbye quickly and had wished him luck with the house.

Mandy was glad that Sara was back from LA. They soon got back into the rhythm of going to the diner together after school to have lunch with Mickey. Each day, that hour they spent together at the diner was the only time Mandy had to really “bond” with her brother, but it was difficult to do with Sara around. 

“Hey, why has your brother been acting so weird around me?” Sara asked one afternoon, a few weeks into the semester, as they walked from the bus station to Mandy's work.

“Weird? What do you mean?” Mandy hoped her response sounded casual.

“Oh come on. You haven't noticed that he doesn't look me in the eyes when he speaks to me? Sorry, I mean _if_ he speaks to me?”

Mandy ran through the possible answers she could give to Sara. She knew she didn't want to out her brother, so that ruled out half of them. Still at a loss, she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, yeah, kind of... but I don't think it's because of anything you did. Maybe you should ask him?”

Sara laughed. “Yeah right. Asking your brother about his feelings is just going to end with him storming off. But this shit is seriously annoying.”

They got to the diner and ordered lunch. Mandy kept trying to start up new conversations but nobody was biting. She could cut the tension in their booth with a knife. A few minutes before she had to start work, Mandy excused herself to go get changed, leaving Sara and Mickey alone at the table. Neither one of them noticed her return because they were both staring down at their plates.

Mickey was running his fingers along edge of his fork when Sara said something that made the boy freeze. He looked up and glared at her for at least half a minute. Mandy stopped in her tracks, not wanting to interrupt.

“Fine,” she heard Mickey mutter through gritted teeth before he got up and left the diner, walking past Mandy without a single acknowledgment.

Mandy sat down in the spot Mickey had occupied just a moment ago. “What happened?” she asked Sara.

The blonde smiled sweetly at Mandy. “I told him I didn't give a fuck what was going on in his head and that he didn't need to tell me shit unless he had a problem with me personally, but that if he didn't stop being a little bitch and ignoring me, he'd fucking regret it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Well, he _did_ look at me. So let's hope we don't have a problem anymore.” Sara grinned as she finished the last of her Sprite and got up to leave. “I'll see you later tonight? I bought a screener of The Bourne Legacy from a little Asian lady on Main Street for like $5. We could watch it...”

“Sure. Mind if I invite Brian?”

“No prob.”

Brian had started his management classes at Queens College, so Mandy hadn't been seeing him as often as she was used to. She decided to give him a quick call, and was glad he answered right away.

“Hey baby, what's up?”

“Hey,” Mandy said, happy that he knew it was her already. “Sara is coming over to watch a movie tonight. Can you come too? It's The Bourne Legacy... I think you'd like it.”

“Yeah, sounds great. Is that out on DVD already?”

“She said she bought a screener.”

Brian chuckled. “'Kay baby, I'll see you later tonight.”

“Laters,” Mandy said as she hung up.

For a moment Mandy wondered if she should invite Travis and Matt to come over too, but figured it would be too much of a hassle for them to come all the way from Brooklyn. She'd see them at Sunday night dinner anyway, since Matt had become a regular at Mrs. Lombardi's over the summer.

Mandy looked at the clock on the wall and sighed—only six hours to go. She picked up their plates from the table and headed into the kitchen.

It ended up being a slow and relatively easy night, and it was 10pm before Mandy knew it. She walked home with a container of cheese fries. Sara and Brian were sitting outside on the steps to the apartment when she turned the corner. It was only mid-September, so Mandy didn't exactly feel bad for leaving them waiting. _Maybe I should make a copy of the house key for Brian,_ she wondered...

Mandy, Brian and Sara were watching the movie on the couch when Brian turned to look at the time  on the coffee machine.

“Hey, I'm gonna run home for a sec and check up on my dad. I haven't seen him at all today and he usually calls by now. Do you guys mind pausing the movie for like 20 minutes?” Brian didn't live that far.

Mandy looked at Sara who just shrugged. “Hurry back!” she called after him as he bolted out the door.

“Want a drink?” Mandy asked Sara as she got up to stretch.

“Yeah. Got any beer?”

Mandy laughed. “This is a Milkovich fridge. It comes with an endless supply of beer,” she joked. Mandy took out two cans and passed one to the blonde. She made herself more comfortable on the couch when she sat back down. 

“My dad called and told my mom that he wants me to go to college on the west coast.”

“Oh...?”

“Yeah. He said it's the only way he'll pay for it. Said that he's letting us know now so that I can send my applications before the deadlines.”

Mandy didn't know what to say to her friend. On the one hand, having someone pay for college would be a huge deal, but she knew Sara would hate being away from her mother and the life they'd built in NYC.

“What about your mom?” she asked.

Sara took a small joint out of her bag. “I suppose she'll get used to it...” she muttered as she lit it up and took a hit before passing it to Mandy.

Fifteen minutes or so must have passed when Mandy heard a small beep coming from the corner of the couch. She blindly fished around with her hand until she found something. She pulled out Brian's cell. He must not have noticed when it fell from his pocket. Mandy slid her finger along the bottom of the phone, unlocking it. Brian had received a text message.

[ **11:49pm Lauren:** Can't wait to see you tomorrow! ;-) ]

Mandy showed the message to Sara.

“Who the fuck is Lauren?” Sara asked.

Mandy had no clue. It was her first time seeing the name. She shrugged and put the phone down onto the table. They didn't talk about it.

Brian came back a few minutes later.

“Dad was passed out on the bathroom floor,” he explained. “I cleaned him up and put him into his bed. He should be fine for the night.” He sat back down between the two girls and they started the movie back up.

Mandy bit her lip, but kept watching the movie. It was a nervous habit she'd picked up from Mickey.

Sara left about half an hour after it was over, when she had finished ranting about two hours of her life being wasted on a “half-assed-wannabe-Matt-Damon,” as she so nicely put it. Mandy thought that wasn't fair; Jeremy Renner was a decent actor, but she didn't feel up to arguing about it. She walked Sara out.

When she got back upstairs, Brian was leaning back in the couch and finishing off Mandy's second beer. It looked like he was going to spend the night. She sat down and joined him. The small high from the weed had already worn off.

Brian put an arm around her shoulder and they watched Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. Brian was kissing her neck, and fuck, it felt good. She reluctantly pushed him away. “I have school tomorrow...”

Brian let out a small laugh. “So do I...” He kissed her neck again and then moved to gently suck on her earlobe. His breath against her body gave her goosebumps.

“Mickey will be back from the bar soon...” Mandy reasoned. “We should at least go to the bedroom.”

They made their way to her room. She wanted to ask him about the text message and about who this mystery Lauren chick was, but Brian's caresses were relentless. He had her bra off and was cupping her breasts through her shirt, softly rubbing his fingers against her nipples. He was trailing kisses along the side of her throat as he lowered her onto the bed. Mandy couldn't focus. She let out a soft moan and gave in to her boyfriend's advances.

She resolved to bring it up the next morning.

They were both awake early the following day. Mandy opened her eyes when the smell of fresh coffee hit her nose. Brian was in his boxers and was holding a mug of hot coffee in front of her.

Mandy sat up against the wall in the corner her bed was pushed against and eagerly accepted her morning dose of caffeine. “Thanks Bri,” she said, making a conscious effort to not sound suspicious. “What are you doing today?”

“No problem, baby. I have class. I'll be on campus all day. Why, what's up?”

“Nothing. Nevermind.”

Mandy got dressed and packed an extra bag with her work uniform. “Make sure you lock the door from inside when you leave. Call me later,” she said, giving Brian a quick kiss on his cheek.

Another week flew by before Ian called Mandy again. They couldn't believe it was already the beginning of October. The situation with the Gallaghers' house had been resolved. Ian explained that Debbie fixed things by saying that Patrick had molested her. It wasn't true, thank God, but that was enough for Patrick to back off, especially when the cops were in earshot.

Mandy confessed to Ian that she was afraid that Brian was cheating on her. She described the message she had seen and how he had said he'd be in school all day. Ian tried to reassure Mandy by telling her that Brian worshiped her and wouldn't do something like that. He urged her to just _talk_ to Brian, but that wasn't really her style. He begged her to not do anything too crazy.

With Fiona having a steady office job now selling paper cups, Ian said he might not have to contribute as much to their squirrel fund. He was considering buying a plane ticket and actually having more time to spend in NY for Thanksgiving, because otherwise he would waste two days of the short vacation on the bus. All he had to do was talk to Fiona about why he wanted to go to NY, which he planned on doing soon. Mandy was happy to hear that and promised she wouldn't let the good news slip to Mickey before Ian had a chance to tell him.

They talked some more about school and college applications before ending the call.

Mandy wondered if Ian told her to not worry about Brian because he was trying to make her feel better or if he really didn't think Brian was the kind of guy capable of cheating. But no matter how hard she tried not to think about it or let it get to her, that nagging feeling of something being wrong was ever-present. She finally broke down in mid-October and decided to snoop through Brian's phone again. It was easy to do, once she set her mind to it. She just waited for him to fall asleep and palmed his phone off of her nightstand on her way to the bathroom. She closed the door and sat on the lid of the toilet, unlocked the phone and went straight to Brian's text messages.

She didn't have to scroll down far. The messages to and from Lauren were everywhere.

_Fuck._


	24. Dexter

**Chapter 24**

(Mandy POV)

Mandy confided in Sara during Health class the next day. They were supposed to be learning how to give CPR, so they were huddled in groups of four around their practice mannequins. The two losers they had been paired up with were so engrossed in the lesson that the girls had their privacy.

“So, we gonna go fuck this bitch up?” Sara asked, already smiling from the prospect of a beat-down.

Mandy frowned. “Gotta find her first. He's meeting her today.”

“Well then, we go to Queens College after school and follow him. You should call the diner and get someone to cover for you.”

Mandy did just that. When their classes ended, they took the bus to Brian's school and walked around until they found the business building. Mandy had looked at his schedule and knew that he had Statistics as his last class of the day, so that helped narrow things down a bit. They casually walked the floors until they found Brian's lecture hall. The sign on the door said the class would be over in just over an hour. 

The girls waited outside the building, watching the main door from across the square. Sara was smoking a cigarette with her jacket pulled tightly around her. Mandy leaned against the tree they were under and made an effort to keep her fidgeting under control. A wave of students exited around the same time Brian's class was supposed to finish.

“They must all end around the same time,” Mandy surmised. “I hope we don't miss him.”

“Your boyfriend is one of the biggest motherfucking Irishmen I've ever seen. I don't think you need to worry,” Sara teased. “Plus, it'll be harder for him to notice us, now that the campus isn't so empty.”

Once they spotted Brian, they followed him at a safe distance. He made his way to a little Greek bakery just a few blocks away from the college campus. Mandy and Sara sat at a bus stop across the street and continued to watch him through the storefront's large glass windows. It was getting chilly so Mandy put her hood on, thankful that they hadn't gotten to the rainy part of autumn yet. 

The bakery had little café tables set up inside; Brian sat at an empty one. A waitress came over and took his order, then returned with two coffees. Brian sipped his drink while playing with his phone for a few minutes before the girl showed up. 

The first thing Mandy noticed was how tall she was—with her heels, her height actually matched Brian's. She had long, brown hair which fell in perfect waves down her back. She walked up to the table Brian was at and he rose to greet her. She have him a kiss on the cheek before he sat back down.

As she took off her black jacket and joined him at the table, Mandy could see that she was wearing dark skinny-jeans and a sheer, black blouse underneath. She couldn't see the girl's face as her back was to the window. 

“Well, that must be her...” Sara muttered quietly.

Mandy nodded. They watched as the two had a conversation over their coffee, eventually ordering dessert to go with it. The girl was laughing and touching Brian's arm. They were definitely flirting. Mandy tightened her hands into fists to the point where her nails were cutting into the soft skin of her palms.

Brian pulled out a textbook from his backpack when he had finished his dessert. The girl took out a notebook in response. 

“What the hell is this? A fucking study-date?” Sara wondered, spitting on the ground next to the bus shelter.

“Maybe...”

Mandy felt a small sliver of relief snake its way through her gut. Okay, so maybe Brian hadn't cheated on her? But they were clearly flirting and secretly chatting for weeks now. She was way too touchy-feely with him, and Mandy wasn't an idiot. If there wasn't something going on between them now, there soon would be. She had to stop it before anything happened.

Brian went up to the register at the counter and paid their bill. They kissed on the cheek again before he left.

“So what's the plan, Mands? You still wanna follow this whore?”

“Yeah, let's find out where she lives.”

The girl put her jacket on and left the bakery. Mandy and Sara followed her the few blocks to her house. Mandy silently thanked whatever higher power there was for the girl not living far and not having a car.

“So what do we do?” Sara asked.

“Shit Sara, I don't know. It's getting late. You can go home.”

“You're not leaving?”

“No, I'm gonna stay and watch her...”

Mandy looked at Sara who raised an eyebrow as if asking if she was sure. Mandy nodded, and Sara shrugged and walked away.

Mandy crouched outside the house and watched. 

...and watched...

...and watched.

She stalked the girl for over a week, finding out her schedule and her patterns. She looked through her mail when she wasn't home. Her name was Lauren Adler. She was Jewish. She lived alone, in the first floor apartment of the house. She didn't talk to her neighbors. She didn't have any pets. She went to Queens College. She had two classes with Brian. She was originally from Vermont. _Who the fuck lives in Vermont?_

Mandy wasn't sure what she could do. She needed to come up with a plan, but this girl was too normal. Mandy had to come up with a way to threaten Lauren and make sure the whore kept her distance from Brian at the same time. 

Her lucky break came when she followed Lauren to a pet store. She watched as the girl played with a few dogs until she found one she connected with. It was a cute dog—Mandy couldn't deny that. It was a small, black cocker spaniel puppy, with curly fur and soft ears that hung on either side of its face. Even it's little stump of a tail was adorable as it wagged it from side to side in excitement. As she watched them play from her spot behind the fish tanks, an idea began formulating in Mandy's head. The girl paid for the dog and for various supplies and accessories, which came to over a grand. She followed them back to Lauren's house, stopping at the 7-11 on the corner to buy a $20 burner. 

That night when Lauren went to the gym, Mandy broke in to her apartment. She took the puppy and all of the new supplies, and put them into the crate that Lauren had bought. Mandy left the apartment in exactly she same condition as she had found it in, but minus the pet supplies (and the pet).

She waited down the block with the dog. When Lauren returned home, she watched as the girl went into hysterics searching the house. Mandy was smiling and absentmindedly petting the puppy, who sat quietly by her feet, occasionally licking her fingers or yelping in excitement when Mandy would look down at it. When Mandy was satisfied that Lauren had been riled up enough, she turned the burner on and called the number she had memorized weeks ago from Brian's phone.

It rang only once before Lauren answered. Her voice was shrill and made Mandy want to punch her in the face. “Hello?”

Mandy remained silent.

“Hello?” Lauren asked again, more nervous now. “Who is this?”

Mandy didn't answer her question.

“You're moving _now_ , Lauren. You're moving tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don't excuse you, you dumb slut. I want you gone. Gone from this neighborhood and gone from this state. Go back home to your fucking relatives in Vermont, for all I care. Don't say goodbye, don't waste any time. Just pack your shit up and leave.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, but she could hear Lauren's shaky breathing as the girl struggled to comprehend what was happening.

“And don't even think about calling the cops,” Mandy advised, “otherwise, _you_ will be the one that ends up missing, not your little dog.” Mandy was grinning now. “I'm watching you, bitch,” she added for good measure.

She slammed the burner shut, dropped it on the sidewalk and crushed it against the sidewalk with the heel of her boot. 

Mandy had to be sure her threat was received properly, so she waited outside for over an hour, still watching the apartment from the other side of the street. The puppy was getting antsy; he probably had to shit or something. Mandy left the crate next to a tree and walked him down the block. She kept one eye on the light coming from the apartment's window. About ten minutes later, a yellow cab rolled down the block and came to a stop in front of Lauren's place. Mandy watched as the light turned off and Lauren walked out with two suitcases. She dropped an envelope into her mailbox and got into the cab. 

Once the cab had driven away, Lauren went and retrieved the envelope from the mailbox. She opened it. Inside was a key and a curt letter to the landlord, Mandy assumed. 

“ _An emergency came up at home and I am going back to Vermont to be with my family. Sorry for the short notice. Here is the key; you can keep the deposit. -Lauren Adler”_

Mandy folded the paper back up and stuffed it into the envelope with the key.

She picked up the crate and walked back home with the dog, feeling completely better.

Mandy got upstairs to their apartment and went straight to her room. Mickey wouldn't be home for another couple of hours and she had a lot of shit to do before then. First things first: she needed to get the dog situated. She took the crate into the kitchen and set it up next to the couch. She dumped all the supplies out of it and took a look at the inventory: two bowls, a box of wee-wee pads, a few chew toys that were already covered in slobber, a few treats, a rawhide bone and a bag of kibble. She turned and looked at the puppy, who had rolled onto its back and was unable to flip back over. 

“I wonder how old you are...” she mumbled, more to herself than to the dog. “We're gonna need a name for you...” She looked at the dog's collar. It didn't have any tags. That was good—the bitch hadn't named him yet.

“You look like a Dexter to me. Do you like that?” The dog finally managed to flip over and came over to lick her hand, stubby tail still wagging in excitement. “Guess you do like it, Dex! Okay, so I'm going to get you some water.”

Mandy got up and filled one of the bowls with cold water. She placed it in the crate. She took one of the wee-wee pads from the box and unfolded it, also setting it down in the crate. She tossed one of the chew toys in there. She played with Dexter for the next hour, before decided It was probably time for her to sleep. She'd been so concerned with following Lauren around that she hadn't noticed how utterly exhausted she had become.

Mandy coaxed Dexter into the crate with one of the treats. He eagerly went in, and she closed the door behind him. He was too distracted with the treat to even notice her walking away. It must have been about half an hour later that the whimpering began. Mandy had already been in bed when she heard it. She walked out of her room and went down the hall to the kitchen.

Dexter had pissed and shit all over his crate. The water bowl had been knocked over and he was covered in filth.

“Are you kidding me?” Mandy demanded.

She opened the gate and took the dog out. She put him into the sink, not wanting him to spread the mess around the rest of the room. She threw out the dirty wee-wee pad and washed the crate with a towel from the bathroom. When everything was set again, it was time to clean the dog. She bathed him in the sink, making sure to get the shit out from under his paws. She wrapped him up in another towel and dried him as much as possible. It wasn't the easiest thing to do since he was squirming the entire time, but he had seemed to enjoy the bath. She would need to look into buying some doggy shampoo if things were going to continue this way. She put the puppy back into his crate. 

The minute she locked the crate, Dexter started his whimpering. “You can't cry every time I leave you,” Mandy explained to the puppy. He just looked back at her with sad eyes that elicited such a deep feeling of guilt. “Seriously? You're gonna pull that face now?” Mandy swore that it was like looking at Puss-in-Boots from Shrek. The dog's eyes were making her melt. 

She couldn't walk away from him, so she picked up the crate and carried it into her bedroom and set it in the corner beside her bed. 

“There, now you're not far away. Just go to sleep, okay?” She waited a few seconds for an answer before realizing how ridiculous she was acting. She snorted quietly and got into bed. “Goodnight, Dex.” She turned off the lamp on the table beside her bed and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to remind everyone what a psycho Mandy was on the show in season 3. Lip cheated on her twice: first with the pedophile teacher, and then with Karen. Mandy threatened to BURY the teacher in the front yard if she didn't leave town, and then she RAN OVER KAREN with her car. So, to keep the crazy/jealous/psycho spirit alive, I was all set to have Mandy actually kill Lauren's pet (back when it was going to be a cat), but some friends talked me out of it. A special thanks goes to Beth (MintSauce) for providing an alternative to literary animal murder... and now they have a cute little puppy! I hope they get to keep it...! (Well, it's my story... so they probably will.)
> 
> I hope to have the next chapter up soon. Enjoy!


	25. Fly

**Chapter 25**

(Mickey POV)

Mickey closed the bar at one in the morning and finished cleaning up by 1:30. It had been a really slow night—most weeknights were. He was glad he's be able to get home a bit earlier than usual. As he put the day's cash into the safe, he shot Brian a quick text.

[ **1:34am Mickey:** everything's all set for the night]

[ **1:35am Brian:** great, man. any problems?]

[ **1:35am Mickey:** nah. i’m headin home]

[ **1:36am Brian:** thx. have a good night]

Mickey locked up and started walking home. He took out his phone and dialed Gallagher's number. Ian picked up on the third ring.

“Mickey?”

“Hey Firecrotch. Still up?”

“Yeah... Mick? Is something wrong? Why are you calling me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You've never called me before...”

Mickey stopped walking. Ian was right; he and Mickey only texted. Mickey wondered what had had him so distracted that he'd spaced out. Maybe it had been the excitement of finishing work early... but deep down, he he knew the real reason was just that he missed Ian and was glad to finally finish work before the younger boy went to sleep.  The hour time difference was finally working to Mickey's advantage.

“I'm walking home. My hands are full and this is easier than typing one-handed,” he lied. Mickey's hands were completely empty. Yeah, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was nervous about Fiona's response. Mickey resumed walking.

“Oh, okay,” Ian said, seemingly accepting Mickey's explanation. 

“Well?” Mickey asked. As far as Mickey knew, Gallagher had been planning on talking to Fiona that night—two fucking months after Ian had gone back home. What a little procrastinator... 

Ian hadn't texted Mickey about how the conversation with Fiona had gone, and Mickey was getting a little nervous.

“Well what?”

“Did you fucking talk to your sister or not?” 

“Yeah... I did...”

Was Ian fucking serious? He was making Mickey actually ask for details?

“And...?” Mickey grunted.

“Well, I told her that I hadn't gone on ROTC trips... I told her that I'd visited you and Mandy, in NY. She was a little surprised because I guess she hadn't thought that Mandy and I had stayed in touch, but I'd say she was more pissed about me lying to her the last three times I visited.”

“So you didn't tell her about... anything else?” Mickey had been about to say “us” but it was just too weird for him to say out loud. 

“Jeez, I'm getting to that,” Ian said, a little exasperated. “So I told her I was sorry for lying to her, but that it hadn't been my secret to tell. I told her that something serious had happened between you guys and Terry, but I couldn't tell her what, and that you had taken Mandy away for her safety, and that you two were living in NY now. She seemed to accept that.”

“Okay... so? What else?”

“Well, then I told her about my last visit, on my birthday. About what happened at the bed and breakfast.”

Mickey choked. “Wait... what? _What the fuck did you tell her?!”_ Mickey had stopped walking again and was practically screaming into the phone.

Ian just laughed in response, which only infuriated Mickey more. “Calm down, Mick! I mean, I didn't give her the dirty details!” Ian was still laughing. “I just told her that you took me to West Point and then we spent the night there... that we kissed and that now we are a couple.”

Mickey tried to regain his composure. He was telling himself not to panic. To just keep breathing.

“Mickey? Are you still there?”

“Y-yeah,” Mickey managed to stutter out.

“Are you freaking out? I know you are... don't freak out... Everything is fine.” Ian waited for a response but when Mickey didn't say anything else, he continued telling him about the night's discussion. “Well, anyway, I told Fiona that I wanted to go visit you guys again for Thanksgiving, and that if it was okay with her, I wanted to fly.”

“Fly?” Mickey asked, surprised.

“Yeah, you know, in a plane...”

“Fuck you man, I know what flying is.” Mickey would have punched Ian if it had been possible. “Isn't that shit too expensive?”

“Well, I told you about Fiona's job at the cup place. Things have gotten a little easier for us, at least in terms of money. I mean, it's not like we are rich or anything! Not by any means... but it feels a little better, you know? There isn't this constant stress of not knowing if we can afford to pay the electric bill, or if we will need to sleep in our coats at night because we can't afford to put the heat on... Basically, she told me that as long as I can afford to buy a ticket with what I make from working at the Kash and Grab, she's okay with me going.”

It took a while for Mickey's brain to process all the information from Ian. “So, wait a minute. That means you're coming? She said okay?”

Ian laughed. “Yeah, she said okay. I was looking at flights all night—that's why I didn't get a chance to text you.”

Mickey was still in shock. The good news hadn't settled yet. “And that means you'll actually be here for Thanksgiving dinner, not stuck on a fucking 20-hour bus ride?”

“Yeah...”

If Mickey was the kind of guy to jump for joy, he'd be doing it. Instead, his heart took on that role. Mickey imagined it doing cartwheels in his chest. He took a few deep breaths to calm down.

“Cool,” was all he said out loud. Mickey had reached the apartment, but he sat on the steps, not wanting to wake Mandy up. 

“Yeah, it's cool...” Ian repeated his own word back to him and Mickey cringed at how lame a reaction it was.

“I can't wait to see you,” he said eventually, feeling bad for not making his excitement obvious to Gallagher. “I've really missed you.” It was almost a whisper, but he knew Ian heard it.

“I've missed you too, Mick.”

“Good. So you'd better hurry the fuck up and get over here,” Mickey said, “'cause I don't know how much longer I can take shoving my fingers into my own ass while jerking off...”

Ian audibly gasped on the other end of the line. “You only have to wait another month. I'll text you my flight info.”

“'Kay... Hey, I'm at the apartment. I'll talk to ya tomorrow?”

“Sure. 'Night, Mick.”

Mickey didn't say bye. He just hung up the phone. He didn't like the idea of saying goodbye to Gallagher. He sat with his elbows against his knees and had his chin propped up by his hands. He looked down the block at all the houses decorated with Halloween shit: pumpkins on the stoops, graves and scarecrows in the lawns, fake cobwebs hanging from the trees. If this had been South Side Chicago, his brothers would have already seen to smashing the pumpkins. He smirked.

Spirits high, Mickey made his way upstairs quietly. He was ready to pass out. He walked straight to his room and only bothered kicking off his boots before going to sleep, still wearing all of his clothes. He had a dreamless, heavy sleep, and didn't even notice the whimpering noises occasionally coming from Mandy's room.

 


	26. Serious Talks

**Chapter 26**

(Mandy POV)

Mandy had set her alarm so that she'd wake up before Mickey left for the diner the next morning. She knew he wasn't going to be happy about the dog, so she wanted to make sure she had as much control over the situation as possible.

Dexter had cried the whole night. She guessed that it was because he was in a new place and locked in a crate. On the plus side, he hadn't had a tantrum like earlier in the morning. His water bowl was still upright, and he wasn't covered in shit. She got up and changed his wee-wee pad, then fed him some kibble.

“Okay, Dex. Let's go meet Mickey,” she said to the little dog.

She pushed her brother's bedroom door open slowly and placed the dog on his bed. Dexter walked over to Mickey's side and started licking the boy's cheek. It took Mickey a while to wake up, even with the puppy's wet tongue making its way into his ear. Mandy tried to stifle a giggle. 

Mickey swatted the dog away with his eyes still closed, then shot up suddenly. “Mandy?! What the fuck is this?”

“This is Dexter!” Mandy said, taking a seat on her brother's bed and petting the puppy. She knew she was being overly cheery. Mickey must have noticed it too. He sat up swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Mandy... what's going on?”

Mandy's smile faltered. Fucking Mickey... he could pick up on all of Mandy's moods. She grimaced.

“It's Brian... He's been talking to this chick from his school... meeting her for study dates... texting all the time. I don't know if he's cheated on me yet...”

Mickey was quiet. He nudged her knee with his own, urging her to continue.

“Well, I followed him, then found out where she lived.”

“Okay, gimme the address and I'll go fuck her up,” Mickey offered.

Mandy shook her head. “I took care of it. She left town for good.”

Mickey chuckled. “Of course you did... and the dog?”

“It was hers. She bought it yesterday... but he's ours now. I named him Dexter. You like the name?”

“You plannin' on walking him, feeding him, cleaning after him?”

Mandy nodded.

“If Mrs. Lombardi says it's okay, then it doesn't bother me.”

Then Mickey asked the real question. The one she didn't want to think about. The one she didn't know how to answer. “What do you plan to do about Brian?”

Mandy looked up at her brother with worry on her face. She knew Brian was Mickey's boss, but she also knew that her brother wouldn't hesitate to beat the crap out of him if she asked him to, and she didn't want him to lose his job over her. He'd worked hard for it.

“I... I don't know. I just... I don't know what to do. I mean, I have no proof that he cheated... and now that the bitch is gone, I don't want to start a fight over nothing.”

Mandy stared at Mickey like if she looked hard enough, she would see the answer on his face, but no words came from him.

“Mick, please... tell me what to do...”

Mickey groaned. “You know that I am SO not the right person to be asking for advice, right?” A small laugh escaped from Mandy. “That being said... okay. I'm just gonna tell you what I think, alright?” Mandy nodded, still petting the puppy that was now in her lap. He was chewing on the zipper of her hoodie. She knew that Mickey wasn't comfortable with the conversation and where it was headed. She should have called Ian again. He was always better when it came to giving advice...

“You two have been seriously dating for a while now. Just because he didn't fuck the bitch, doesn't mean that he didn't do anything wrong. You said that he has been texting her and meeting with her behind your back for a while. That is _not_ okay. And so what if she's gone now? Who's to say another dumb slut won't take her place? If it was Gallagher...” he sucked in a deep breath, “I wouldn't just let it slide.”

That surprised Mandy. What her brother said actually made sense. Or maybe she had been wrong all along about Mickey's lack of advice skills because they'd never talked so openly and honestly before. Her brother had changed so much. She wondered if it was because of Ian or because of coming to NY.

“But what do I say to him? How do I bring it up? No matter what, he's going to know I looked at his phone.”

Mickey shrugged. “The problem here isn't that you snooped. It's that he was having an affair.” Mandy opened her mouth to remind him, again, that she wasn't sure they'd had sex, but Mickey cut her off. “Ay, before you interrupt—weren't you listening to a word I said? It doesn't have to be physical to be cheating. You gotta make sure that shit is done... or I will.”

He slapped a hand onto her lap. “Now get that thing out of my room before he pisses on my shit, otherwise you're gonna have bigger worries than how to talk to your boyfriend.”

Mandy smiled halfheartedly and carried Dexter out of Mickey's room. She decided to bake some muffins. Baking always made her feel better. Plus, it would give her a reason to stop by Mrs. Lombardi's and talk to her about Dexter. 

Leaving the puppy alone at home in the crate was probably the most heartbreaking thing Mandy had every experienced. Well, no... not really... but it came damned close. She made sure he had a fresh wee-wee pad, plenty of clean water, and a full scoop of kibble in his bowl before she left.

Mandy was relieved when Mrs. Lombardi said she didn't care about pets as long as Mandy cleaned up after the dog. She wondered if Dexter would get along with her “itty bitty Charlie.” Mandy didn't point out that Charlie was one of the fattest cats she'd ever seen.

Sara met her downstairs and they talked on the way to school about what had happened the previous night. Sara told Mandy that she was proud of her for getting rid of the whore, but had nothing to offer in terms of how to start up the conversation with Brian. Mandy would have to figure it out on her own, and she was not happy about it.

School flew by and Mandy raced home afterwards to see how the puppy had fared. She could tell he was still too small to be walked outside, so she just hoped that he hadn't made too bad of a mess in the crate. Her fears weren't unwarranted: the dog had acted in the same way as he had that first time she tried to leave him home alone. The inside of the crate was a mixture of water, urine, kibble and feces. 

“Dexter... what am I gonna do with you!?” she moaned as she got down and started cleaning out the crate yet again. She took out her phone and called Mickey, holding it to her ear with a shoulder while she washed the puppy in the sink for the second time.

“Hey Mick.”

“Hey, you're late. I already ate my lunch.”

“Good. Don't wait for me... The puppy made a mess so I'm cleaning him up.”

She could hear Mickey snickering in the background.

“Yes, I know I asked for this. You don't have to remind me...”

“Want me to bring you something to eat?”

“Nah, I'll just eat while I'm working. See you soon.”

She dried off one hand and closed the phone. When Mickey came back to the apartment a few minutes later, she begged him to let her put Dexter's crate into his room—just until she got home from work, and just in the beginning. Her theory was that the dog would behave better if he wasn't completely alone. Mickey reluctantly agreed.

As soon as the weekend arrived, they took the puppy to the vet. He was 12 weeks old, and a pure black cocker spaniel. Based on his age, Dexter's size and weight were all normal so far. The little thing weighed only four pounds. The vet said his baby teeth would start falling out soon, and that his appetite would increase with his size, so not to worry and just follow the directions on the kibble container. He gave Dexter all of his shots and told the two Milkoviches he would see them in a year for Dexter's next annual visit, unless there was a problem. The visit to the vet cost Mandy $100 and his monthly heartworm medication cost another $75.

“You're an expensive little puppy, aren't you?” Mandy cooed to the dog. He lolled his tongue out at her while wagging his tail in pure happiness. Their last stop before heading back to the apartment was Petco, to have an ID tag made with Dexter's name and Mandy's cell phone number on it.

Mandy had been avoiding Brian. She had been short with him when they talked on the phone and had made a different excuse about being busy every night of the week. It was Saturday, however, and she couldn't come up with any reason why he couldn't come over.

After Mandy had introduced the puppy to her boyfriend, she handed Dexter over to Mickey, who carried him into his bedroom and closed the door tightly behind him. This was it... Mandy couldn't stall anymore.

“Brian.”

“Yeah baby, what's up?”

“I have something to say to you and I need you to just let me get it out, alright?”

She bit her bottom lip and waited until Brian nodded in acknowledgment. _Here goes nothing,_ she thought.

“I know about you and Lauren.” She watched his face as it first registered shock, then confusion, and then anger.

“What do you think you know? There's nothing going on.”

“I know that you two have been meeting after class and sending text messages to each other for weeks. I know that you've gotten close and that you flirt. And what I know is that you've never mentioned her to me before, which makes her a secret. I thought we didn't keep secrets...”

Brian scowled. “You were looking through my phone?” He almost shouted it at her. 

Mandy shook her head slowly. “That's not the point,” she said. “The point is... that you've been having an affair with some other girl.”

“We didn't do anything,” Brian said defensively.

“That doesn't mean you weren't going to... That doesn't mean it's not where you were headed.”

They were both staring at each other with anger in their eyes.

“You had no right to look through my phone,” Brian accused again.

“Maybe not, but I'm not a tool... so you don't get to treat me like one.“

Neither one said anything after that. Where could the conversation go? Mandy was angry, but more so because she felt betrayed. She had hoped this confrontation with Brian would clear things up, not reaffirm her fears. Who was this guy sitting next to her? What had happened to her perfect boyfriend? She had trusted him, and now all she felt was betrayal.

“I have to go,” Brian said, and got up from the couch. He didn't look back at Mandy as he walked out of the kitchen, down the hall and out the door. 

Mandy started crying. She couldn't help it. She felt like her heart had been crushed. What the fuck had happened? She went into her room, not wanting Mickey to hear her.

After an hour or so, she decided to call Sara. Her friend came over with weed and beer, and the two girls got absolutely shit faced. Mickey walked in around 7 and deposited Dexter into Mandy's room. “I gotta get ready for work...” He shook his head and walked out. Mandy barely registered the sound of the shower turning on. She didn't even care that Dexter was taking a dump in the corner of her bedroom instead of on the wee-wee pad inside his crate. She just didn't give a fuck anymore.

Brian didn't call her for two weeks. In that time, Mandy hung out with Sara and the dog. They took Dexter on his first real walk, encouraging him to “go potty” on the grass. It took a few days and a shitload of praise and treats, but he finally peed against a tree on the sidewalk. Mandy didn't think something so trivial could bring her so much happiness. 

Ironically, the dog she had gotten in order to protect her relationship with Brian had become a good substitute for it. The puppy gave everyone unconditional love. Even Mickey seemed to be happier when he played with Dex. It was as if, for a few minutes, he would forget that Ian wasn't near him.

Mandy could tell when Mickey was thinking about the redhead. She could see it written on his face. She wondered if she got a similar expression when she thought about Brian. 

About a week before her birthday, Mandy had a meeting with Mr. Ferdinand, the guidance counselor at her school who doubled as the college advisor. They talked about Mandy's future, something she had only really thought about a few times. She'd already taken the SATs, and her scores had been good—good enough to get into a much better school than Queensborough Community College.

Mr. Ferdinand slammed a folder onto his desk, which startled Mandy. “Listen, kid. You're smart. Based on what I've seen in terms of your grades improving from the short time you've been at this school, you have potential. Why would you sell yourself short? Why settle for QCC? What do you _really_ want to do? What makes you happy?”

Mandy didn't need to think long. She loved to cook. Even since she had started doing it with Mrs. Lombardi, she'd felt a sense of relaxation and joy from creating different dishes, even desserts.

“I like to cook...”

“Well then! We have a direction!” Mr. Ferdinand typed something into his computer. “I want you to go home and do some research on different culinary schools in NYC. You live near a city that is obsessed with food. Why not take advantage of it? Come back to my office tomorrow and we will talk more.”

Mandy went to the school library after leaving Mr. Ferdinand's office and looked up the different schools that she could apply to. After about an hour of research, she came to the conclusion that they were all fucking expensive. Her favorite option was the Institute of Culinary Education, called ICE for short. They offered dual degrees in Culinary Arts and Culinary Management. 

She went back for her second meeting with Mr. Ferdinand the next day, and told him about her choice. “But there's no way in hell I can afford the $30k tuition... I mean, I've been working my ass off all summer and working extra shifts at the diner. I have a little bit of a cushion saved up, but nowhere near enough for ICE.”

“If culinary school is what you really want to do, then maybe community college isn't such a bad idea. QCC has a management program that might actually help you out when you ultimately apply to ICE. It will be good for them to see that you already have a degree, and that it is in something that will be useful when it comes to running a restaurant. You can get an associate's degree in less than two years.” He took out a brochure from one of the drawers in his desk and opened it to the right page before he passed it over to Mandy. 

“An A.A.S. Degree in Management would require only 60 credits. If you push yourself and take classes during the summer semester and even a couple during the winter break, you can finish the program in a year and a half. Maybe less...”

Mandy looked at the booklet while Mr. Ferdinand continued explaining the program. “You can even take a couple of “College Now” courses. It's a program QCC has with certain high schools in the area; you can take some classes here in the afternoon, during your senior year, and get college credit for them.” 

QCC would cost her about two grand per semester, plus the cost of books. Mr. Ferdinand handed Mandy some applications for different scholarships she could apply for. He said that the tuition costs were not bad, especially if she considered the financial aid she might be able to receive.

Mandy asked him where she should start, because it was all a little overwhelming. He said she should be working on getting recommendations from her teachers and filling out applications, both for financial aid and admittance. Mandy had a lot of work ahead of her.

Her birthday passed without a fuss. She was glad it fell before Thanksgiving this year. Everyone went to Mrs. Lombardi's for dinner that Sunday night, with the exception of Brian, who had still not called her or talked to her. 

They all watched as Dexter and Charlie met for the first time. After the puppy tentatively sniffed at the cat's tail, he wagged his tail and rolled onto his back in front of Charlie, waiting for the cat to make his inspection.

“Aren't dogs and cats supposed to be mortal enemies?” Travis asked.

“I guess not even Charlie can resist Dexter's charms,” Mandy said, smiling. “I bet Ian will love him instantly, too.”

“Oh yeah, he's coming to NY soon, right?” Matt asked Mandy.

Mickey was the one to answer. “Yeah, I'm meeting him at the airport Thursday afternoon.” When Matt looked at Mandy, Mickey explained that Mandy had work when Ian's flight arrived. Nobody really knew about the boys' relationship yet. She wondered how long Mickey could keep the secret going. 

_Well, at least they have a relationship,_ she thought. She didn't even know where things stood with her and Brian. She shook her head slightly to clear it before she ended up crying again. It was her birthday, and she wanted to enjoy the night with her friends and family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might be a while before the next chapter because I'm trying to get some stuff written for the Gallavich Week topics. I'm working on a few stories at the same time, so hopefully this chapter is long enough to hold you over until then. I appreciate all the feedback and I'm so thankful that you all are enjoying this as much as I am!


	27. The Fight

**Chapter 27**

(Micky POV)

Mickey paced the arrivals terminal at the airport. He'd shown up an hour early, not wanting to risk being late. Thankfully, getting there using public transportation had been a lot easier than he'd expected. Ian had texted him before leaving Chicago and had told him that he would send another message once the plane landed, but even knowing this, Mickey kept checking the computer screens every few minutes.

It had been so long. He hadn't seen his boyfriend in three months. Was this what it was always going to be like for them? Mickey waiting for Ian to come and visit him? He didn't know if he could survive another separation like this... and then what was going to happen once Gallagher was off in some dessert fighting for his country? Mickey didn't think he could handle that—constantly wondering if Gallagher was alive...

He blinked and looked at the screen again. It still said “on time.” He felt like pulling his hair out. He'd been nervous all day, ever since getting to the diner that morning. Work had been a welcomed distraction, true, but now he couldn't wait to have Gallagher in his arms again...

His phone beeped from inside his jeans pocket and he almost dropped it in his rush to open it. There was a text from Ian.

[ **2:56pm Firecrotch:** just landed... with 4 min to spare :-P ]

Mickey grinned. Gallagher was being a smart-ass. Mickey went and stood closer to where he knew the passengers would be walking out from. It was another 20 minutes before he made out Ian walking towards the exit. Ian was a head taller than almost everyone else, and nobody could miss his flaming hair. Mickey smiled when he saw that Ian was wearing the hoodie he had bought him last Christmas. A grin broke out on Ian's face once he spotted Mickey.

Ian was only a few feet away from him when the panic set in. The excitement he'd felt less than 10 seconds ago was now replaced with fear. Mickey looked around at all of the other people in the airport. It was so crowded—it was Thanksgiving, afterall—and they were probably waiting for their loved ones. But what if someone he knew was there? What if someone saw him? Saw _them?_ What would they think? A couple of fairies making out...

Ian must have seen Mickey's expression change because when he finally stood in front of his boyfriend, his earlier grin was gone, and there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. Mickey was biting his lip, unsure of what to do. He was frozen in place. Half of him wanted to seize Gallagher and attack those soft, red lips of his with his own, but the other half wanted to run.

Thankfully, Ian made the decision for him. He dropped his duffel bag onto the floor beside him and embraced Mickey. He enveloped the older boy in his arms, crushing him close to the point of causing pain. Ian kissed Mickey's neck, right by his ear. “I missed you,” he whispered.

That was what did it. Mickey was able to move again. He wrapped his arms around Ian and returned the hug. “Me too,” he said in the other boy's ear.

They reluctantly let go of each other. Ian took a step back and picked up his bag. “Lead the way,” he said to Mickey.

They walked out of the terminal and waited on the taxi line. Mickey figured that they should take a cab back if they stood any chance of making it back to the apartment before dinner at 4pm. Ian reached for Mickey's hand and laced his fingers through it. Mickey glanced worriedly at the cab driver and Ian laughed at him. “Mick... nobody gives a shit except you...” he said. Then he leaned over and kissed Mickey. His lips were as tender and warm as Mickey remembered. A gentle breath escaped from Ian's mouth and Mickey couldn't help but let his lips part in response to it. Ian pulled back, and Mickey saw that his face was flush.

“I should call Fiona and tell her I landed.” Ian took out his phone and called his sister. Mickey looked out of the window at the other cars on the highway. He wasn't really listening, but he couldn't avoid hearing Ian's shocked comment about a bald eagle. Mickey raised an eyebrow at Ian who just shook his head as if to say he'd explain it later. “Hey Fi, I gotta go. We're at the apartment now. Happy Thanksgiving.”

They couldn't get into to the apartment fast enough. By the time they made it upstairs, they were already undressing each other. Sweaters and shirts were tossed in the hallway, sneakers were awkwardly kicked off... The tender kiss in the cab had been nothing compared to the violent, passionate ones they were exchanging now. They made their way to Mickey's room and Ian pushed his boyfriend down onto the bed.

“We don't have a lot of time before we have to be downstairs,” Ian panted.

“So you better hurry the fuck up and get on me,” was Mickey's response. He gave Gallagher a lascivious grin before Ian leaned down and flipped Mickey over so that he was stomach-down in the bed, his face pressed against the mattress.

They didn't waste any time with foreplay. The time apart had both boys _needing_ this. Mickey pulled his pants and boxers down so that they rested just under his ass. He heard Ian slide open the drawer in his bedside table and the unmistakeable squirt of lube. Ian grabbed Mickey's ass cheeks with both hands.

“Did I ever tell you how perfect your butt is?”

Mickey grunted. “Shut up and fuck me already...”

Without warning, Ian pulled Mickey up by his ass, effectively lifting his body off the bed. Mickey was on his hands and knees with his ass spread open and waiting, but he didn't have to wait long. A second later, Gallagher was sliding his bare, slicked up dick right into him. Mickey let out an almost inaudible groan. His face showed the combination of pain and pleasure he received from finally having Ian inside of him again, filling him up.

Ian was behind Mickey, on his knees between the older boy's legs, but still holding on to Mickey's ass and using it as leverage. He was pounding Mickey so hard that the slapping of their bodies together was the only sound that could be heard.

“Oh, Mick...” Ian said as he rammed into Mickey. “You... feel... amazing!” Both boys were panting and they knew they weren't going to last more than a few minutes. It had been too long...

Ian snaked a hand across Mickey's chest and pulled him up while they were fucking so that Mickey's back was flush with Ian's chest. The angle was just right—with every single one of Ian's deep thrusts, he hit Mickey's prostate. Mickey couldn't stop himself from moaning. The pleasure was just too intense. His neglected cock was throbbing, calling for attention. Now that he didn't have to use his hands to support himself, he used a free one to jerk himself off.

Ian licked a stripe up Mickey's neck and started to suck on Mickey's ear lobe. He moved his other hand to rest on Mickey's and they both stroked his erection together. Mickey arched his back as white beads of warm semen spilled over their fingers and dripped onto the bedsheet. Ian came almost immediately after Mickey.

They stood on their knees, gasping for breath and enjoying the feeling of their all-too-fast orgasms. Ian was the first to move. He eased his grip off of Mickey and sat back on his legs. Mickey cringed as he felt Gallagher's load slide down the inside of his thigh.

“Dude, this is disgusting...” Mickey said. He looked back over his shoulder at Ian who was smirking at him.

“I guess we'll just have to shower then!” Ian said, getting up and running out of the room. Mickey pulled off his pants (which were still hanging just below his butt) and ran after the redhead. By the time he made it to the bathroom, Ian was already in the shower. Mickey reached for the sliding door but Ian held it shut.

“Seriously, Firecrotch?” Ian laughed. “You know Mandy will serve my balls on a platter for dessert if we're late to dinner. She spent hours prepping the fucking meals with Mrs. Lombardi yesterday.”

“Hah. Fine, come in,” Ian said, still laughing. “But only 'cause I love your balls where they are,” he added.

After they were clean and dressed, Mickey introduced Ian to Dexter. Mandy had asked him to feed the puppy and bring him down to Mrs. Lombardi's at 4pm. The diner was closing early for Thanksgiving, so she had worked the early shift and was going to meet them downstairs. Mickey watched as the dog climbed all over Ian, who was sitting on the floor next to the crate, licking anywhere he could reach.

“You know I'm not kissing you until you clean the slobber off your face, right?” he said to Ian.

“He's tickling me...” was Ian's only answer. The redhead was giggling and the dog's tail was whipping back and forth in excitement.

“Okay, okay. Let's go—we're late,” Mickey said as he scooped up the puppy.

Everyone was already seated at the dining room table once they got down. Travis and Matt had gotten there early to help Mrs. Lombardi heat up the dishes Mandy had prepped the day before and Sara and Mandy were bringing the last few plates from the kitchen. There was no sign of Brian...

It was a delicious meal and everyone was stuffed. Ian told everyone about his little brother Carl shooting down a bald eagle instead of a turkey. The others were shocked when he told them his family was actually going to cook it and eat it, but Mickey and Mandy knew that it was just a typical day in the South Side. Shit happened and you just had to roll with it.

They decided to go to Sullivan's with Mickey when his shift started because they could watch the football game there on the big screen. The girls weren't big football fans but Travis was surprisingly into the game. For reasons Mickey didn't understand, he loved the Cowboys with a passion.

Brian showed up at around 10. Mickey watched him and Mandy start talking, and they eventually went outside. He knew his sister had been avoiding his boss for weeks now, but he didn't know if she would forgive him. Once Ian and Mickey got back to the apartment later that night, the answer was obvious: they could hear the unrestrained noises coming from Mandy's room. They had left Dexter in the kitchen, thankfully—the dog didn't have to witness his sister's nasty make-up sex.

The boys had amazing sex again that night, but their sleep was interrupted at 3 in the morning when Ian got a call from Fiona. He walked out of the bedroom and took the call in the kitchen so as not to wake anyone. Mickey decided to give him space, but when he woke up an hour later and realized Gallagher still hadn't returned to bed, he knew something was up. He walked to the kitchen and saw the redhead sitting on the floor in front of the couch, staring at the black screen of the TV. Mickey could see the stains of tears that had streamed down his face. His cell phone was on the floor beside him and he was holding a sleeping Dexter in his lap.

Mickey walked over and sat beside his boyfriend. “What happened?” he asked gently, too worried about Ian to attempt touching him just yet.

“My m—,” he stopped himself, then tried again. “ _Monica_ tried to kill herself. She slit her wrists in the middle of dinner.”

He took a shaky breath before he continued. “She's okay... They got her to the hospital in time... she's okay. She's back on her meds now. They're gonna keep her under observation.”

“Yeah, I know the drill. 72 hour watch... Travis had to stay in the hospital too, after he tried it...” Mickey put a hand on Ian's knee. Ian looked down at Mickey's hand but didn't recoil from it. He took another deep breath.

Mickey squeezed the redhead's knee. “Well, she isn't dead, right? It could have been worse...” He knew it was insensitive to say, but it was the truth. His mom had overdosed and they hadn't been able to save her. At least Monica had a chance now.

“Yeah, but that's not all... I told you about Lip and Karen, right?”

Mickey nodded. Ian had told him all about his brother Lip's “relationship” with that slut, Karen Jackson, and how he had still been obsessed with her even after she had married some guy name Jody. “What about her?”

“She had her baby. Lip was sure he was the father. He even went to adoption interviews with her... but the baby was Asian,” Ian said.

Mickey let out a laugh.

“And has Down Syndrome...”

Mickey stopped laughing. “Shit, that's fucked up.”

“I know... I should have been there... I should go home. My family needs me.”

Mickey felt a pang of sadness rip through him. He wanted to tell Gallagher that _he_ needs him, but didn't. He moved his hand from where it had been resting on Ian's knee. If the redhead noticed, he didn't say anything.

“I'm gonna call the airline and see if I can change my flight and go back tomorrow.”

 _No...! No no no no no no no!_ Mickey had only seen him for a day! Less than a day, really... Gallagher couldn't leave already... Mickey could feel his eyes starting to water. His chest felt empty and it was a struggle to get any air in.

“When will you come back?” he croaked out.

“I don't really know. I don't think I can afford to come again at Christmas.”

Mickey was silent. He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

“Can you come and visit me in Chicago?” Ian asked.

“You know that ain't gonna fuckin' happen...”

They both sat there quietly for the next few minutes. The only sound in the room came from Dexter's soft snores.

“It's hard, Mickey... I'm the one constantly coming here. I'm the one who does all the traveling and has to suffer for weeks to get back onto a normal sleep schedule every time I get home. I'm the one who has to spend every holiday away from my family. You wouldn't understand...”

No, Mickey couldn't understand.  His mother was a dead junkie, his father was a now-incarcerated _rapist,_ and his brothers were greedy idiots who would easily sell out their own family to save their asses or get their next high. Mickey's “family” now consisted of Mandy and the new friends they had made since coming to NY.

Ian didn't know how badly his words hurt Mickey. He had no idea how deep they had cut. Did he think Mickey didn't know the sacrifices Ian made to come and visit all the time? That he didn't feel bad about constantly fucking up Gallagher's schedule every time he came by because of Mickey's stupid work hours?

“You _know_ I can't go back to Chicago. Ever.”

“I don't know if I can do this... It's not fair that I have to be apart from my boyfriend all the time. We can't have a relationship based on text messages and seeing each other 3 or 4 times a year. And when you _do_ see me, you can't even admit to people that we are together! I... I can't deal with this right now. I need to call the airline. I'll meet you in bed.”

Mickey knew Ian was being unreasonable, but he didn't know how things had escalated so quickly. He went to his bedroom and waited for Ian to get back. He was on his side with his back to the door. It must have been another hour before Ian finally came to bed. Mickey didn't know if Gallagher was aware that he wasn't asleep, but neither one made any effort to talk. They went to sleep facing away from each other, and when Mickey got up to go to work the next morning, Gallagher was already gone.


	28. Worth the Effort

**Chapter 28**

(Mickey POV)

Two weeks passed with the boys only contacting each other twice: the first time was when Ian texted Mickey to tell him that he had landed, and the second was an angry message Mickey had left to Ian's voicemail after he'd gotten drunk one Sunday night. He'd said something along the lines of “fuck you, douche-bag,” and Ian hadn't replied.

Mickey was miserable, and seeing Mandy all happy again made him feel even worse. He wasn't jealous of his sister—not exactly—he just hated his situation and the fact that he was too far away to really fix it. Mandy told him to just suck it up and call Ian, so on Christmas Eve, that was exactly what Mickey did.

It was late... He was in his room while everyone else sat in the kitchen watching TV. Sara had brought over some really good weed and Mickey was high off his ass in no time. He'd already been drinking with Chris and Mandy since morning, so he blamed breaking his stubborn streak and calling Ian on the fact that he was fucked up. Gallagher didn't pick up until the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey...”

“Hi.” When Mickey didn't respond, Ian asked, “Mickey?”

“Yeah, I'm here... Merry Christmas.”

Ian let out a little snort. “Merry Christmas, Mick.”

Mickey didn't know what else to say. Of course there were a shitload of things he _wanted_ to say, but it was Christmas and he didn't want to fight with Gallagher. He just missed him...

“Is that it?” Ian asked.

“What the fuck else do you want me to say?” Mickey snarled back at him.

“Nothing. Nevermind.”

“Yeah, 'nothing' is what I figured.” 

Mickey hung up. It was over, just like that. It had been a month since Thanksgiving, and that was all they said to each other. He sat on his bed and looked out the window at the snow falling down, while he took a drag from his cigarette. 

He heard a sound from behind him and he turned to look. Mandy was standing there, leaning against the door frame. “What the fuck do you want?” he barked at her.

Mickey didn't know how long his sister had been standing there. She must have overheard his conversation. “Really?” she asked. “I mean, that's all you're gonna say to him?”

She crossed her arms and spat out, “You're a _fucking pussy,_ ” before turning to rejoin the others in the kitchen. 

Mickey was glad she left—that way she wouldn't see him starting to cry again.

He was miserable all winter, and it was clear that Mandy wasn't going to be any help. Whatever version of the story Gallagher had told her was enough to put her on his “side”—she wouldn't give Mickey any information on what was going on in Ian's life, even after he'd worked up the courage to outright ask her.

Mickey didn't know what to do. He'd never been in a relationship before, and he'd sure as hell never been in a fight like this. The only thing he was sure of was that he didn't want to lose Gallagher. He would do anything to make the redhead see that they were worth the effort. 

One Wednesday afternoon in the middle of January, Mickey decided he couldn't fucking take it anymore.

 **[4:35pm** **Mickey:** hey, think u could swing by the apartment tonight?]

 **[4:36pm Travis:** sure man, what's up?]

[ **4:36pm Mickey:** gotta talk to u bout something. need ur help.]

[ **4:38pm Travis:** i finish work @ 5:30. i can be there by 6]

[ **4:39pm Mickey:** k, that's great. thanks.]

By the time Travis came over, Mickey had already started his way through a six-pack. There were only two beers left. He offered one to Travis as his friend sat down on the couch next to him.

“You didn't sleep today?” Mickey shook his head. He didn't tell the guy he'd been too nervous to even think about sleeping. Travis started to pet Dexter, who was on the couch between them, and they mindlessly watched the Jerry Springer rerun that was on the TV.

It felt like it used to back when Travis was staying with them. They were just hanging out... It was weird to think that a year ago, Travis had been the one in Mickey's situation, suffering from the worst break-up of his life. Mickey took comfort in the fact that Travis wasn't pressuring him. 

“Ian and I were dating,” he blurted out when the episode of Springer ended.

There was no way to beat around the bush. He didn't want to start off by saying he was gay, because he really didn't think he _was_ gay—at least not completely. He looked at Travis for any sign of shock or hatred or disgust, but the guy just continued petting the puppy.

“ _Were?_ ” Travis asked, looking at Mickey now. “As in, past-tense?”

Mickey nodded.

“What happened?”

Mickey sighed. “I don't know, man. It just got out of control. Some fucked up shit happened to his family on Thanksgiving, and I think that's how it all got fucked up.” Mickey took a deep breath before he began his explanation of everything that had gone down. “He felt like he should have been home, with them. He said he couldn't afford to come and visit again during the holidays, and the worst part is that I don't think he would have come even if he could have gotten a ticket. He said it wasn't fair that he was the one always doing the traveling and missing holidays with his family. He wanted me to go to Chicago to see him, but he knew I couldn't.” Mickey's voice was coarse now with the effort of trying to hold in his emotions. “The worst part...” He cleared his throat and started again: “The worst part was that he said that having a long-distance relationship wasn't worth the effort.” 

Mickey didn't think he and Travis had ever had a conversation this long—at least, not on Mickey's part. 

“He said that?” Travis asked.

“Well, not in those exact words. He said he didn't know if he could do it... that it wasn't fair that we had to be apart all the time, and that we couldn't have a relationship based on texts and only seeing each other a handful of times. He said that I couldn't even admit to people that we're together.”

Travis laughed then, startling Mickey. “What the fuck man?”

“How long had this thing you guys had been going on?”

Mickey had to think before answering. “I dunno... end of August, I guess? Since his birthday.”

Travis was still laughing. “Well, he's not wrong! I mean, it's been five months... and you're only telling me now?”

Micky frowned. “So you're taking his side too?”

Travis calmed down but he was still smiling. “No, Mickey. I'm not taking his side. I'm just saying that he was right about that last part—about you being in the closet about your relationship.”

“I'm not gay,” Mickey said, voice low.

“I didn't say you were. I knew about you and Sara hooking up last year. And even if you were gay, do you think I would _care_? I mean, _me_ , of all people?!” Travis looked like he genuinely meant it, and Mickey relaxed a tiny degree. “I don't think people need to define themselves sexually. Like I told you, I've always been into guys, but not everyone is the same... but that's not what matters right now. This fight you and Ian had... what are you gonna do about it?”

Mickey snorted. “If I had a fucking clue how to fix it, I'd have done it by now. I called him to wish him a Merry Christmas but that wasn't good enough for him. He wanted me to spill my guts out or something over the phone. I didn't want to fight... That wasn't why I'd called him... I just missed hearing his voice. I don't know what to fucking do! I don't even know if we've been broken up since Thanksgiving or not...”

“So he _wanted_ to talk?”

“I guess... he was pressing me to say something else, but I just couldn't.”

“I think you should call him again and be honest. Tell him how you feel and offer to bring him to NY for Spring Break. It's not a holiday, so it shouldn't be a problem. That way, you guys can talk in person. You need to convince him that your relationship _is_ worth the effort.”

“And if he doesn't want to come?” Mickey bit his bottom lip.

“Well, then suck it up and talk to him over the phone. At least then you'll know you tried everything.”

Mickey thanked Travis for his advice and walked him out around a quarter to eight. He had just enough time to walk to the bar before starting his shift. He probably shouldn't have gone to work, but it was a slow night, so despite being completely stressed out and a little buzzed (he and Travis had shared another six-pack), he was able to get through it. 

He closed up at 2am and sent Chris the usual message letting him know everything was okay, but not before drinking about four fingers of Jack. He told himself he needed the courage.

[ **2:02am Mickey:** hey Firecrotch, u awake?]

It was only 1am in Chicago, and despite it being a school night, he hoped Ian would still be up.

[ **2:04am Firecrotch:** yes.]

Well, it may not have been the most encouraging answer, but at least he wouldn't be waking the kid up. A groggy Ian was not a happy Ian. Mickey took a deep breath and pressed the number on his speed-dial. Ian picked up after the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi...”

“Hi Mick.”

Fuck, this was already not going the way Mickey wanted it to go. He looked at the list he'd made. Yes, he'd written a list in his fucking palm about all the things he wanted to say to Ian. Thankfully it hadn't washed off while he was working. He bit his lip.

 _Okay, here goes nothing,_ he thought.

“Ian... I really want to talk to you. _Need_ to talk to you. But first of all, I want you to know how much I miss you. These last two months have been hell without you. Shit, it feels so fucking weird to do this over the phone. I wish you were here. I wish I could hold you in my arms...”

He waited for some sort of reaction from Ian. “Are you still there?” he asked, worried that the redhead might have already hung up on him.

He heard a slow exhale and then Ian's voice say, “Yeah... I miss you too.”

Relief flooded through Mickey. He felt a sliver of confidence pushing him to continue. At least he wouldn't be talking to an empty room, so to speak. 

“Look, the thing you said about me not admitting that we're together... well, I told Travis about us.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. He was cool with it.”

Ian laughed. “Mickey, Travis is gay. Why wouldn't he be cool with it?”

Mickey shrugged and then realized that Ian couldn't see him, so he made a noncommittal grunt instead. 

“I want to buy you a plane ticket to visit us in NY again. Can you come for Spring Break? It's not a holiday or anything... you're family wouldn't feel like you were skipping out on them... but, will you come?”

“I don't know, Mickey. Nothing has changed... What's the point?”

It looked like they would be having the conversation over the phone afterall.

“You're right: it's _not_ _fair_ that we have to be apart so much, and that we only get to see one another once in a while. It's _not fair_ that you are the one who always has to come here to see me, and I'm sorry that I work such shitty hours. You _know_ that if it was possible, I'd be back in Chicago with you. I'd do anything to be close to you. But listen—we'll only have to suffer a few more months. Once you start at West Point, you'll be so close that I'll be able to see you every weekend. We can do it for a little bit longer, don't you think?”

Mickey was sitting on the stairs to the apartment now, but he didn't want to go in and wake Mandy. He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them, waiting for Ian's response.

“I just don't think it's worth the effort.”

“Of course it is,” Mickey said confidently.

“Why?” Ian demanded.

“Because I'd take being with you for a few days out of the year over not being with you at all. Because you matter to me! Please, Ian... Please come back. I can't take us being apart anymore...”

He'd prayed that he'd be able to control his feelings but this was just too much for Mickey to handle. He really didn't think he'd be able to survive if Ian rejected him. 

“Please don't give up on us,” he added in an almost whisper.

He heard Ian sniffle on the other end of the line. “Okay, Mickey. I'll come... But on one condition.”

“Anything...” Mickey said, not even taking a second to think about it.

“I don't want to feel like you're ashamed of being with me. You have to tell your friends about us.”

“Done.” Mickey was giddy now. “I'm gonna call you again tomorrow when I finish work. Find out the start and end dates of your vacation and I'll give you Mrs. Lombardi's credit card info so you can buy the tickets online. I'll give her cash for it afterwards.”

Ian yawned. “Alright.”

“Great. Goodnight, Firecrotch.”

Ian laughed. “'Night Mick.”


	29. Déjà Vu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I just finished this, and it isn't beta'd (nothing ever is...), so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. The chapter got away from me a bit... I really didn't expect it to be so long! I took about a thousand words off the end and put them in Chapter 30, so hopefully the wait won't be as long for the next bit. As always, I appreciate all the feedback/kudos and I want to take the time to thank everyone who reads this!! Enjoy...

**Chapter 29**

(Mickey POV)

Ian's spring break was in the middle of March. Mickey was pleasantly surprised because Mandy's wasn't until the first week of April. That gave Mickey just under two months to set things in motion for Ian's visit. He was going to make a real effort to address the points Gallagher had made. Mickey knew nothing was really his fault—they were just in a shitty situation, and he was going to try his best to make it more bearable until Gallagher started classes at West Point. He'd already paid for Ian's plane ticket, so he figured he was off to a good start.

Mickey debated whether or not he could afford taking off from work for that whole week, but decided against it. Instead, he asked Brian to cover for him so that he'd only need to work at the diner. It took a lot of begging and a 'you-owe-me-for-not-kicking-your-ass-after-what-you-did-to-my-sister' for Brian to ultimately agree to it.

Next came the task of telling his friends about his relationship with Ian. He'd already talked to Travis, so that took care of Matt as well. He knew that Travis and Matt didn't keep secrets from each other. That only left Brian, Sara and Mrs. Lombardi. Although he was sure that Brian knew, something told Mickey he still needed to have a talk with his friend. 

He didn't know if it would be easier to just tell everyone at the same time or not—kind of like pulling off the Band-aid really quickly. It had always worked for him before, but then again, that was in the literal sense of pulling off an actual Band-aid. 

He still hadn't decided what to do when the next Sunday night dinner arrived. He was sitting at the table beside Mrs. Lombardi, who'd been beaming at him all night. “You're looking a lot happier than you've been lately, Michael. Did something special happen?”

“Nothing really—just convinced my boyfriend to come visit for Spring Break,” he said with a little smile, before realizing what words had slipped out of his mouth. _Holy shit,_ he thought. _Did I just say that?_ He'd been thinking so much about telling people about him and Gallagher that he'd subconsciously done it. He looked down at his plate and tried to pretend the room hadn't just gone silent.

“ _Boyfriend?_ ”

Mickey looked up. It was Sara who had asked. She looked taken aback. He slowly nodded at her. “Yeah... Ian,” he said guiltily. Her confusion changed, first to surprise and then to resentment. Mickey knew she must have been feeling pretty pissed right then, as if he'd used her or something, which was completely unfair—technically, they'd used each other. They both knew that there had been no strings attached to the sex they'd had.  

He looked around at the rest of his friends at the table. Travis and Matt were holding hands and grinning at one another, oblivious to the unspoken drama that was going on between Mickey and Sara. Brian whispered something into Mandy's ear before grinning and looking up. “When's he coming?” he asked.

Mickey blushed. “The week I took off...” he confessed, which got him a smirk from both Mandy and Brian.

He finally looked at Mrs. Lombardi. “Is Ian the handsome, ginger one?” she wondered. Mandy laughed at Mrs. Lombardi's description of Ian before confirming that that was indeed Ian. “Oh. Well, I like him. His hair is the same color as Charlie's fur,” she added, as an explanation for her approval. 

They resumed their normal dinner conversations. Mickey couldn't believe how nervous he'd been. This was just another reason he was glad they'd left Chicago. After being raised by his homophobic father to think being queer was the worst possible weakness—a sickness, in fact—it was hard to accept that nobody here really gave a shit... except Sara. She hadn't said a word since Mickey's confession. She had barely even eaten anything. When Mickey and Mandy had finished helping clear the table, Mickey went upstairs to change quickly before going to work. Sara followed him.

“Was it a fucking joke?”

“What?” Mickey asked, surprised to see her standing in his doorway.

“Did you just fuck me as a test? To see if you _could_?”

Mickey grimaced. He really didn't want to explain himself, _again._

“No. You're hot, you offered, and it was great... I'm not gay.”

Sara snorted. “Yeah, says the guy with the boyfriend!”

Mickey threw his hands up in frustration. “God, just because I fuck _one dude_ does not make me a fucking faggot, alright? I've had sex with plenty of girls, _and_ _enjoyed it_. Ian's just... different. I don't know! And don't fucking kid yourself—you knew it was just sex between us... so why do you even care?”

“I just don't like being used.”

“Well, neither do I. So it's a good thing neither one of us actually cared.”

Sara shrugged.

“Now can you get out so I can finish changing?”

She laughed. “It's nothing I haven't seen before...”

“Yeah, well... just get the fuck out.”

She walked out of his room, but probably left the door open to spite him. _Bitch_ , Mickey thought, but couldn't help but smile. He'd done it: he'd told everyone that mattered, and he'd survived. He called Ian later that night and told him all about their reactions, smiling like an idiot when Gallagher told him how proud he was that Mickey had gotten over his fear. 

The weeks passed pretty quickly. Before Mickey knew it, winter was in full swing. The first snowstorm since they'd come to NY hit in the beginning of February. The city's response was abysmal. People were stuck in their homes for days, blocked in by four or even five feet of snow in some places. Mandy was thrilled because her school closed for three days. Even if they'd been able to leave the house, public transportation wasn't running, so nobody could actually get around.

Mickey had spent three hours shoveling on the first night. He'd only managed to get a narrow path cleared from their steps to the sidewalk, but the winds had blown new snow right over his small walkway within an hour. His worn out boots had done nothing to keep the wetness away from his feet. His socks had gotten soaked and his feet had frozen. He'd been surprised to get upstairs and see that his toes had _not_ really been frostbitten. 

A hot shower didn't help much, and Mickey was sick by the following morning. It was definitely the flu; he'd been out of commission until the snow had been cleared away by the city's sanitation workers. He was surprised to find that his sister actually took care of him. He'd still been a little pissed at her after the way she'd gotten involved during his “fight” with Ian, but he supposed this was her way of apologizing. She told him that she was an asshole for not helping him out after he'd given her such good advice with her 'Brian problems'. 

Mickey still didn't know how he and Gallagher had gone so many months without communicating. They were back to texting each other non-stop. It may have seemed pathetic to most people, but Mickey didn't give a shit. He was just... _happy_. It was weird because he didn't think he'd ever have feelings like this. He didn't think he deserved to feel so optimistic. Ian was coming in a week, they were going to resolve all their shit, and then in a few more months, Gallagher would be adjusting to college life less than an hour away from him.

He was back in the airport, having the worst case of déjà vu. Today, however, instead of a text, he got a call from Ian.

“Yeah?”

“We just landed. Are you at the airport?”

Mickey laughed. “Ya, I'm at the fucking airport.” He didn't think it was important to add that he'd been there for an hour already.

“Good. I can't wait to see you.”

Mickey grunted and hung up the phone. He was excited, but he didn't know why he couldn't let himself show it. Maybe he didn't want to seem weak or some shit like that. 

This time, when he saw Ian, he didn't hesitate to give him a fucking kiss, even if they were in a crowded airport. Granted, it was just a small, chaste kiss, but he was trying, and Ian knew it was a big step forward. An old couple standing near them made a disgusted comment. Mickey didn't know what possessed him. He turned and gave them the finger. When the wife gasped in indignation, Mickey's response was, “If you don't want to see it, don't fucking watch.”

He looked back at Ian who didn't say anything about what had just happened, but he didn't have to—his proud smile was enough for Mickey to know exactly what Ian was thinking.

“Welcome back,” Mickey said to him with a smirk before grabbing his duffel bag and leading the way to the AirTrain. Ian couldn't keep the goofy grin off of his face. They got to the LIRR and transferred to the train to take them to Flushing.

“So what's been going on at home?” Mickey asked. Even though they talked and texted every day, Ian didn't really talk about his family. Lately, Mickey felt like there was something Ian wasn't telling him. It might have just been a sore subject because of everything that had happened at Thanksgiving, but Mickey was curious and couldn't help himself.

“Same shit...” Ian answered vaguely. Mickey shoved his shoulder into Ian's and made a face. “Okay, fine. A lot of shit's happened, okay?”

“Like what?” Mickey pressed.

“Jimmy left...” Ian was looking down at the floor but Mickey saw his green eyes flick towards his face to see his reaction. When Mickey didn't ask anything else, Ian took it as a sign to continue. “He just disappeared. Fiona was a wreck. She went to see Lloyd—Jimmy's dad—to ask if he knew where his son was, but he didn't. She's been really depressed lately and has been taking it out on the rest of us. She's also been seeing her boss from work, but I don't know how serious it is. She doesn't really talk about her sex life with us...” Ian laughed a little ruefully. “She's also been really pissed at Lip. He got his diploma but he hasn't applied to any colleges. She thinks he's wasting his life staying in South Side Chicago with Karen. Debbie is impatiently waiting to get her period,” Mickey grimaced, but Ian didn't miss a beat. “Carl got suspended last week for putting a dead rat on his teacher's desk, and Liam's starting to talk in actual sentences, not just baby babble. We haven't seen Monica since Frank busted her out of rehab only for her to run off with another psycho lesbian, and Frank's been trying to stay sober since the holidays...”

“Oh yeah? What's that like?”

Ian shrugged. “Well, he's not drinking, but he's still doing any other drugs he can lay his hands on, so not much has changed. He still spends most of his days scamming people and hanging out at the Alibi. I don't know... it's weird. He's around a lot more, and he is spending time with the younger kids, but he's still a fucking asshole. He still hates me.”

“Why do you think he hates you?” Mickey asked.

“I'm a constant reminder that Monica had an affair with his brother. Does he need more of a reason?”

“Guess not...”

Ian had talked about his family so much that the didn't even realize it when the train pulled into their station. They got off and took the bus to the apartment. The last stretch of the trip only took fifteen minutes because Mickey lived so close to Main Street. They got upstairs and headed straight to Mickey's bedroom.

Ian tossed his bag onto the floor and looked at Mickey hungrily. “When do you have to be at work?” he asked, voice low. There was almost a predatory growl in it which made Mickey's dick twitch.

“It's Saturday. Not 'til late,” Mickey replied, voice shaky with anticipation.

Ian took a step closer to him. They were only a couple of feet apart now. “And Mandy?”

Mickey cleared his throat. “She's at work...” Ian took another step closer. He arched an eyebrow at Mickey, who cut him off just as he opened his mouth to speak. “...and before you fucking ask about Dexter, he's in his crate in her bedroom. I walked him before I left for the airport. Now shut the fuck up and c'mere.”

Mickey grabbed the back of Ian's neck with his hand and pulled him in for a real kiss, not the stupid peck he'd given him in the airport. Their tongues battled back and forth and Mickey shuddered with the familiarity of tasting Ian. Mickey was overwhelmed by the desire he felt for the younger boy. It had been three and a half months since they'd last been together. 

Their bodies were flush and Ian was groping Mickey. Ian's hands felt like fire wherever they touched Mickey's flesh. Mickey was craving more. He reluctantly broke off their kiss.

“Take your clothes off,” Mickey ordered. Ian did as he was told and Mickey followed suit. 

Mickey made a move to kneel on the bed but Ian grabbed his shoulder. “No, I want to see you,” he explained. Mickey turned around and lied on his back. He was reminded of the first time he and Ian had had sex at the bed and breakfast. Mickey reached for the lube in his drawer and passed it to the redhead who wasted no time prepping Mickey. He lined up his fully erect penis with Mickey's waiting hole and slowly pressed in. Mickey tensed from the pain of the initial penetration. He realized he'd closed his eyes and opened them to look up at Ian's lean body hovering above him.

“Are you okay?” Ian's voice was gentle.

Mickey nodded, trying to hide his wince.

“Want me to wait a bit?”

He shook his head. It had just been too long, but Mickey was already getting used to the feel of Ian's giant cock inside him again. 

Gallagher started moving, slowly at first, but eventually gaining momentum. Ian rested himself on Mickey's body so that he could easily reach the brunette's neck. He licked a stripe up from Mickey's collar bone to just behind his earlobe. Then he trailed kisses right back down the same path, all while continuously thrusting into Mickey. Although he would never admit it, Mickey loved it when Ian kissed his neck. Ian exhaled gently through his nose and the boy's cool breath against his wet skin gave Mickey goosebumps.

“Don't stop...” he moaned. He felt Ian smile into his shoulder before moving lower and sucking on Mickey's nipples. Mickey reached around and grabbed Ian's ass. He used his grip on the redhead's cheeks as leverage to pull Ian deeper into him. This time Ian was the one to moan.

Ian's movements became more erratic and Mickey could tell he was close. He reached between them to grab his own dick and started pumping it. Ian gave Mickey two more hilt-deep, powerful thrusts, and Mickey felt the warmth in his ass from Gallagher's release, which was followed by his own mere seconds later.

Ian rested his forehead on Mickey's chest but he didn't make any move towards getting up, let alone pulling out of Mickey. A few minutes later, Ian rolled onto his side with a chuckle. 

“What's so funny?” Mickey wanted to know.

“I was just thinking that if I didn't move soon, I would probably have fallen asleep on top of you. Easily.”

Mickey smiled. “A nap doesn't sound too bad right now...”

Ian shrugged. “Fine, but only if you let me hold you.”

“What do you mean?”

Ian pushed Mickey onto his side and scooted closer to him. He put one of his arms under Mickey's neck and, after pulling a blanket over them, wrapped his other arm around his boyfriend, over his chest.

Gallagher wanted to _spoon_ with him? Was he _serious_? Mickey was about to protest when he felt the body heat radiating off of Ian. It was the middle of March but this was one of the coldest winters Mickey had ever been through, and that was saying a lot since he was from Chicago. Mickey decided to let it slide. When Ian started rubbing soft circles onto his chest with his thumb, Mickey just murmured contentedly. He fell asleep sated and with a smile on his face.

With Mandy's help, Mickey had planned out most of the week. He'd told her he wanted to take Ian out on some proper dates, but “none of that gay shit like shopping” as he'd so eloquently put it. Granted, the freezing weather made outdoor activities somewhat difficult, so Mickey stuck to mostly indoor things. He took Gallagher to the movies, a few decently priced restaurants, and he even took him bowling.

Sara lent Ian her laptop so that he wouldn't go crazy all morning while Mickey was at work. He and Dexter kept each other company. Ian even helped walk him during the day. He couldn't get over the fact that the dog preferred to pee on the piles of snow on the sidewalks that still hadn't melted away from the snowstorm in February. Gallagher would meet the Milkoviches at the diner for lunch each afternoon before the boys started on the day's plans. 

On Wednesday morning, Ian woke Mickey up with a surprise blowjob. It was definitely one of his top five.

“What was that for?” Mickey asked after he had come. 

“Just a little birthday present...” Ian replied with a smirk.

Fuck, Mickey had forgotten his own birthday, yet again. That probably meant that Mandy was planning a surprise party, since she hadn't mentioned it either. His sister didn't forget things like that. Sure enough, later that night, all their friends met them at Sullivan's and there was even a fucking cake. When they got back to the apartment, Mickey was more than a little tipsy. Ian actually had to help him get up the stairs.

“So, where's my gift?”

“I gave you your gift this morning, Mick.”

“No, my _real_ gift! I know you got me something...” Mickey pressed.

Ian laughed. “Don't be so cocky,” he said as he bent and took out a small bag from under his clothes.

“I'll show you cocky!” Mickey said and gripped his crotch while raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Ian held the bag up and Mickey greedily grabbed for it. He sat on his bed and opened it up. Inside was one of those fancy blown-glass pipes, with the little swirls of color in it. Ian took a 20 bag out of his pocket and dropped it in Mickey's lap.

“I couldn't exactly bring it on the plane with me, so I had to wait for Sara to help me get some,” he explained.

They smoked and fucked the rest of the night. Mickey was hungover and so late to work the next morning that he was afraid he'd be fired. Liz told him that he was lucky he'd never been late before, because she was able to calm down the owner.

It was obvious that Mickey was going out of his way to make sure Gallagher had fun while in NY this time; however, Ian didn't seem to be interested in doing anything that afternoon. 

“Hey Mick, I'm sure you have something great planned for today, but you think we could just stay in this afternoon? I'm still feeling fucked up from last night...” Mickey couldn't argue with that. He'd had a miserable morning.

They'd been lounging on the couch all day, watching a Deadliest Catch marathon, when Mickey's stomach growled. He sat up straight and turned to face his boyfriend. “Hey, you hungry?”

“I'm always hungry,” Ian replied with a grin.

“Hah. Okay, I'm craving Cherry Valley. How 'bout you wait here and I'll go get some sandwiches and fries?”

“Okie dokie.”

“Don't say that... it's so gay.” Ian laughed, not the least bit insulted by the older boy. He moved his legs so that Mickey could get up. 

“Don't forget the extra gravy!” He heard Ian call to him as he was closing the door, as if Mickey would forget the most important thing about Cherry Valley.

Mickey walked the couple of blocks to the deli and ordered their sandwiches with extra gravy. He also grabbed a couple of Arizona Iced Teas, since this was the only place that still sold them for 99 cents each. The wait was almost half an hour and he was a little annoyed when he finally got back. Mickey saw the light from the TV reflecting off the walls of the kitchen as soon as he got upstairs. He made his way down the hall and heard Ian's voice. Either Mandy was finally back from work or Ian had started talking to himself. He smirked.

“Maybe I'll just enlist,” he heard Gallagher say. “I'll be 18 at the end of summer. I can do it then.”

“And what about your boyfriend?” Mandy asked with anger in her voice.

“He'll understand. It's what I've always wanted... he _knows_ that.”

“No, Ian. This changes things. He always knew you wanted to go to West Point and become an officer. But what you're fucking forgetting is that that would mean you guys would have four years together while you're in school. What you're talking about now—enlisting—is different... You'd be fighting before you know it... just another soldier, on the front lines, getting yourself _killed_. Mickey won't 'understand', shitface.”

“I would have still gone to war after West Point. They require five  
years of active duty after graduation... Mickey knows all about it.”

“Yeah, well, you're not fucking going to West Point now, are you...” Mandy spat. 

They were silent for a few minutes. Mickey was trying his best to regulate his breathing. He knew that if he walked into the room at that moment and confronted his boyfriend, things would not end well. He was amazed that he had controlled himself this long. The old Mickey would have barged in, fists swinging. _Hit first and ask questions later..._ Wasn't that how it went? He wondered if he should pretend he hadn't heard anything and wait for Gallagher to bring it up, but he felt too betrayed.

Just when he thought they were done talking, he heard Ian's hoarse voice. “You think I'm not fucking pissed that I didn't get in? You think I'm happy about not being closer to him? About not being able to see him every weekend?” Gallagher's voice broke then. “I know it's not fucking fair, but it's life. Mickey will get over it.”

Mickey walked into the kitchen, dropped the take-out bags down onto the kitchen counter, and stormed out. He slammed his bedroom door behind him.


	30. Alternatives

**Chapter 30**

(Mickey POV)

Mickey was so pissed he couldn't even sit still. He was pacing back and forth in his room, still in his heavy boots and winter coat when Ian walked in. 

“Mickey...” Ian started, but Mickey just looked at him and scowled. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He was feeling like his world was crashing down around him and he just had no clue how to stop it from imploding.

“Mick, I'm sorry... Can you just sit down and we can talk about this?”

Ian made a move towards Mickey but the older boy stepped back. The redhead frowned and took a step closer to Mickey. He reached an arm out and tried to pull Mickey towards him but Mickey slapped his hand away and shouted, “Don't fucking touch me, Gallagher!”

“Mickey, please...”

Mickey let out a frustrated sigh and sat on the edge of his bed, with his back to the door. He ran his hands down his face before speaking.

“How long?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

Ian was puzzled. “'How long' what?”

“ _How long have you fucking known about West Point?_ ” he screamed.

“Oh,” was Ian's stupid response. He walked around the foot of the bed so that he was in Mickey's line of sight, then leaned on the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. He brought his knees up against his chest and hugged them. “I kind of suspected it for a while now. I didn't officially find out until a few days ago.”

“What do you mean, you suspected it?”

“Well, remember that friend of Lip's I told you about?” Mickey shook his head. “Lip was working on a project with Professor Hearst, the guy who caught him taking the SATs for other kids. The project was a government grant, and he met a colonel, Kirk McNally, while helping Hearst. McNally was supposed to help me get a nomination from one of the state senators, but it kind of fell through. He told Lip that my grades were too low and I wasn't involved in enough extra-curricular activities, but that I should still write to the representatives and try to get a nomination on my own. The West Point application deadline was the end of January, and I sent in my paperwork, but I got a letter from them last week saying that my application had been denied because it was incomplete; I was missing a nomination.”

“When did Lip tell you what this McNally guy said?” Ian didn't respond, but instead, he looked down at his shoes guiltily. It suddenly dawned on Mickey that Ian had known about not getting into West Point all along.

“You found out at Thanksgiving, didn't you...” It wasn't a real question—it was the only thing that made sense, and Mickey could see he was right when Ian's eyes flicked towards him for just a fraction of a second. 

This whole time, Mickey had been so concerned with mending his relationship with Gallagher and convincing the boy that they were worth the fight, but it was all bullshit. Ian had given up a long time ago. Had he just picked a fight with Mickey last time, coming up with a bunch of reasons for them not to be together, so that he wouldn't look like the one to blame? The realization felt like someone had stabbed him in the gut with a blade and was slowly twisting it, watching him bleed out.

Mickey got up and turned to Ian. “You fucking liar!” he spat.

Ian's face contorted. “Liar?”

“Get the fuck up. You made me think this was all my fault. You made me think I was the cause of all our problems.” He wasn't screaming anymore but his words were full of anger, and Gallagher knew it. He grabbed Ian by his hoodie and dragged him up so that he was standing now, never letting go of the death grip he had on the redhead's sweater that was balled in his fists.

Ian wouldn't look at him. Mickey slammed him back into the wall. “Look at me!” he shouted. Ian still wouldn't meet his gaze.

“All of it was a load of crock! Wanting _me_ to come visit _you_ because you couldn't afford it... You didn't want to be the one to do all the traveling... You didn't want to miss holidays with your family...” He shook his head in disgust. “But you _knew_ about West Point already, and you _knew_ I wouldn't be able to come visit you in Chicago and you _knew_ it would be an easy out for you. You wanted to make it my fault that we can't be together!”

“And all this crap about it being too hard for us to be apart all the time? Texting not being enough for you? My ruining your stupid little sleep schedule? Admitting to people that we're together? I spent all week trying to convince you that we are worth it, and you were just fucking playing me. Wasting my fucking time and money.”

Mickey was shaking with anger. “And the worst part is, you let me call you and let me beg for you to not give up on us. When I said that we only had to suffer a few more months until you started at West Point, you didn't fucking say _anything_ then. You just led me on...”

Mickey finally let go of Ian's sweater. “You fucking make me sick.” He couldn't look at Ian anymore. He was so disgusted by him. Mickey felt used. He started to turn and leave the room.

“Wait...” Ian choked out, just as his back was to the redhead.

Mickey looked over his shoulder at Gallagher. He was done with him, but there was something still nagging at him. He turned back around. “Why the fuck are you even here? Why did you bother coming to NY again if you had no intention of making it work?”

Ian finally made eye contact with him, and the pain in Mickey's chest increased tenfold. How could someone so beautiful be so cruel? 

“Because I love you,” Ian whispered.

Mickey pulled his arm back and punched the redhead in the gut with as much force as he could. Ian doubled over, clutching his stomach, face distorted in pain.

Mickey turned away, shaking the numbness out of his hand. “Fuck,” he spat. The hurt he'd inflicted on Gallagher didn't do anything to make him feel better. Nothing could ease the agony he was feeling at being played with. How could someone claim to love him and fucking manipulate him like Gallagher had? He practically ran out of the apartment and headed straight to the bar.

“You okay, man?” Brian asked when he saw Mickey sitting at the bar.

“I'm not gonna fucking talk about it. Just gimme a drink.”

Brian looked at him seriously, then shrugged and poured his friend some whiskey into a lowball glass and placed it in front of Mickey.

Mickey emptied the glass in a single motion and slammed it down on the bartop. “Keep them coming,” he said through the burn in his throat.

He stayed at Sullivan's until closing, at which point he was so fucked up that Brian had to walk him to the apartment. Mickey didn't want to go back, which might have explained why Brian had to practically carry his friend the last few blocks. Mickey didn't want to see Gallagher's face—didn't want to hear his voice. He just wanted to pretend like none of it had ever happened. Mickey kept thinking he should have hit the redhead harder that first Christmas... maybe if he had hit the faggot enough, he wouldn't have _infected_ him. 

Mickey suddenly dug his feet into the ground, effectively stopping him and Brian on the sidewalk. He leaned over the closest fence and threw up into one of his neighbor's front yards. However pissed he was, the thought of hurting Ian made him sick. It just didn't sit right with him. He was hurt and spiteful, but Mickey knew what he felt with Ian had been so real. It had been the first time Mickey had felt loved by anyone who didn't have to love him because they were family (not that anyone besides Mandy really loved him). 

He silently took back his previous thoughts. No, Ian hadn't infected him. He'd shown him what love was... and that made Mickey all the more angry. He spat out the bitter taste of vomit from his mouth. 

_He loved Ian._

The realization was painful. Now that he thought about it, he'd loved him all along. His life had meant nothing before, and it meant everything now. That's why the truth about Ian not going to West Point was so agonizing.

They resumed their slow pace and Brian finally got Mickey to the apartment. Mickey was so miserable and lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even been paying attention to where they were going.

“Thanks for bringing him back,” Ian said. Mickey's head shot up at hearing the redhead's voice. “I got it from here.”

Brian clapped Mickey on the back, told Ian goodnight and turned to walk back in the direction of his own house.

Ian put Mickey's arm around his shoulders and Mickey was too weak to protest. He let Gallagher help him but as soon as they got to the steps that led to the front door, Mickey sat down. Ian looked down at him and realized Mickey wasn't getting up anytime soon, so he sad down beside him. Mickey reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his cigarettes and the Zippo that Mandy had gotten him. He lit two and passed one to Gallagher.

“What are you gonna do?” Mickey could still taste the bile from a few minutes ago. He spat again and hoped the cigarette would help. He took another deep puff of it.

“Army.” Ian was blunt and it stung.

“Ah, right. Gotta be 18.” Mickey exhaled a lungful of smoke into Ian's face, but he didn't get the reaction he was hoping for.

“I'll enlist after my birthday.” 

Mickey let Ian's response sink in. “You serious? You're signing up?”

“Yeah, Mick. I was always gonna do it... You know that.”

Gallagher wanted to join the army and fight for his country. It was true—Mickey had known that was what West Point would lead to, but the imminence of Gallagher enlisting in August was too much to handle. “That's a dumb-ass fucking move. How long?”

“Four years, minimum.”

Four fucking years. _God dammit._ He was serious. He was going to leave. _He's gonna leave me..._ Mickey thought. It was like every single time he'd said goodbye to Ian and watched him board the bus to go back to Chicago, but all at once, multiplied by a thousand. 

“What are you hoping? I tell you not to go? I'ma chase after you like some bitch?”

Ian looked up at Mickey. The redhead's eyes were brimming with tears. “I'm not expecting you to do anything. You made it perfectly clear how you feel...”

“Don't...”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “Don't what?”

Mickey swallowed and felt a ball in his throat. It was like his own body was rejecting the words he was trying to get out. He didn't know if he would have been able to say what came out of his mouth next if he hadn't been so shitfaced. He stubbed his cigarette out against the railing and tossed it into the grass.

“Don't go, Ian. Don't enlist. Don't join the army. Don't leave me. Just... don't.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wouldn't survive without you... because I fucking love you too.”

They grabbed at each other in the most meaningful embrace of their lives. It was impossible to tell where Ian's body began and where Mickey's ended. They were both holding on for dear life.

“I hope you don't expect me to kiss you,” Ian whispered, his face pressed into the space between Mickey's neck and shoulder, “because you stink... I think I'd rather make out with Dexter right about now, and I've seen that dog eat his own shit on more than one occasion.” Both boys chuckled and Ian rubbed a hand on Mickey's back, making small circles with his thumb.

Despite the alcohol causing havoc in his stomach, Mickey already felt better just being in Ian's arms. It was soothing; he felt safe. And yeah, there was a lot of shit they still needed to talk about, but now that they'd both admitted their feelings for each other, Mickey didn't feel so fucking lost.

“Let's go upstairs,” Ian said after a while. “It's too cold out here.”

Mickey made an affirmative sound, reluctantly let go of the vice grip he had on Ian, and made an attempt to get up. His head spun  and he fell right back down into his prior seat on the step.

“Umm... I might need some help.”

Ian just laughed and hoisted Mickey up over his shoulder. “Gallagher... that's not what I meant. Put me down!” Mickey demanded. He was hanging upside down now, and the contents of his stomach were threatening to come out again.

“Trust me, this will be faster,” Ian said. “Plus, I get such a nice view!” he said right before he pinched Mickey's ass. They were in the apartment in less than a minute, but instead of going to his bedroom, Ian took Mickey into the bathroom. “Brush your teeth... _please_ ,” Ian said, shoving a toothbrush into Mickey's hand. The older boy did as he was told. Ian then opened the medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of Tylenol. 

Mickey took two with some water from the sink. They made their way into the bedroom and Mickey collapsed into his bed. Ian helped him take off his boots and his coat, then shoved him so that he was on his own side.

“Don't go...” Mickey said again. His voice was low but he knew Gallagher would hear him.

“I'm right here, Mick,” Ian replied. He got into bed next to Mickey, who could feel that Ian had undressed (at least to his boxers). The redhead pulled the blanket over them and Mickey instantly drifted off to sleep in Ian's arms.

It was still dark out when he woke up to pee. He felt sluggish but he slowly made his way out of bed and down the hallway. After using the bathroom, Mickey poured himself a glass of water to ease the dryness in his throat. He went back to his room and sat on the bed, still drinking his water. 

“Hey... how are you feeling?” Ian asked.

Mickey looked back at Gallagher in surprise and with a touch of guilt. “I didn't mean to wake you up.”

Ian sat up on his elbow. “It's fine. Did you throw up again?”

Mickey shook his head. “Just needed to take a piss. I'm fine. Tylenol must have worked.” He put the water down and sat back against the headboard.

“I'm sorry,” Ian whispered. Mickey turned to look at him and Ian sat up so that he was sitting on his knees and facing Mickey. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about West Point. I shouldn't have kept it from you. I wasn't trying to lead you on... I was scared that it would change things between us if you knew...”

“But it did change things... for you.”

Ian furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I suppose it did... but not in the way you're thinking. It didn't change how I felt about you at all, and...”

“And what?”

“And that stuff you said before about me wanting to make it your “fault” that we can't be together... None of that is true. Not one bit.”

He reached out and took Mickey's hand in his. He laced their fingers together. “Mickey, I really do love you. That's why it _is_ so hard being away from you all the time. I know we're worth the effort. That's why I think we'll still be together even after I join the army.”

Mickey swallowed. This was it: it was time to tell Gallagher how he felt. He'd already told the younger boy he loved him, this should be a walk in the park. “I don't want you to go. Don't enlist.”

Ian let out a laugh. “Well it's not really your choice, is it...”

“It affects me. I... I love you, and I don't want you going off to war and getting yourself killed.” Mickey knew that what he was asking Ian to do was selfish, but he couldn't not try.

“But Mickey... this is what I've always wanted to do. It's always been the plan. Even going to West Point was just a step to get the hell out of Chicago and ultimately join the army. _You_ were the one to take me to visit the school! You knew what the post-graduation requirements would be. Now all of a sudden you're changing your opinion?”

“It just didn't seem as real before. I guess I figured there'd be more time or something. I don't know...” Mickey 

squeezed Ian's hand. “You don't have to enlist in order to get out of Chicago. You could come live here.” _With me..._ he thought, but was too scared to say out loud. 

“You expect me to just forget about the one thing I've wanted to do since I was a kid? Forget about all the hours in ROTC? All the training?” Mickey could see the disappointment on Ian's face from the moonlight that was streaming in through the window. “And what would I do here? Get a shitty minimum wage job and wait for my boyfriend to come home at 2 in the morning every night?”

“Look, that's not what I want either. I don't want you to come here and resent me for ruining your dream. I just think that there's other things you can do...”

“Like what?” Ian asked, pessimistically.

“There are a ton of jobs that are physical, where you would still be helping people, if that's what you want... You could become a firefighter... or a cop... or an EMT... and if you don't want to do something in public service, why not become a personal trainer at a gym or something? I mean, there are a lot of alternatives that don't necessarily increase your chances of getting killed...”

Mickey exhaled and continued. “There are so many things you could do here. You don't need some dead-end job. You could go to college and then do something _real_. Think how happy your sister would be if you decided to continue going to school!”

Ian let out a small laugh and Mickey knew he'd made a good point. If Fiona was as pissed as Ian had said about Lip not going to college, then she would be thrilled at the prospect of the next Gallagher in line actually going. 

“Maybe you and Mandy could go to QCC together... It's not that expensive, and I could help with whatever student loans and financial aid doesn't cover.” He looked into Ian's eyes with hope, and could imagine the gears turning in his head. 

In a last attempt to sway Gallagher, he put his free hand to Ian's cheek and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. “I'd do anything if it meant being with you, Firecrotch...”

Ian laughed. “Okay.”

“ _Okay?”_ Mickey asked. “You're serious?”

“Yeah... Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost over, guys... Almost... but it will go out with a bang...!


	31. Plans

**Chapter 31**

(Mandy POV)

Mandy woke up early the next morning expecting to find Ian sleeping on the couch. She walked to the kitchen and panicked when he wasn't there. She thought he might have just gone back to Chicago early, but when she went to her brother's room to check up on him, she saw them cuddled in bed together. Her brother was fully clothed, jeans and all, and Ian was lying in his boxers, arms wrapped around the older boy. She backed out of the room and closed the door gently so as not to wake them.

She had to leave for school in just over an hour, so she started on her morning routine: she showered, dried her hair and put on makeup, got dressed, walked Dexter and made herself some bacon and eggs. Mickey walked into the kitchen just as she was wiping her plate clean to put it in the dishwasher.

“Good morning!” she said, maybe a bit too perky.

“Hi.”

“So, things okay between you and Ian?”

Instead of answering her, he just grinned. It warmed her heart to see her brother happy.

“So what's he gonna do?”

“Actually, it's a good thing you asked. He has no fucking clue, besides coming to live here after graduation...”

Mandy's jaw dropped. “You're kidding!”

Mickey shook his head.

“Holy fucking shit, Mick!”

“I know... Look, I gotta get to work in like 10 minutes.” He went over to the fridge and drank a couple of sips of orange juice from the carton. “Think you can do me a favor?” Mandy nodded, so Mickey continued. “Gallagher might actually consider going to college. Can you get some pamphlets and applications and shit from school? Bring them to the diner at lunch?”

“No problem...” Mandy answered. “As long as you don't mind walking Dexter when you get home. If I have to stand and wait outside Mr. Ferdinand's office for God knows how long, I'm probably gonna be late...”

“Okay, I'll call Ian later to make sure he does it. See if you can get some stuff on careers too... like becoming a cop or a fireman...”

Mandy rolled her eyes but agreed. Leave it to her brother to make _her_ do all the work. She grabbed her bag and was out the door before he had even picked up his toothbrush.

She met Sara at the bus stop and told her the good news. In the month since Mickey had told everyone about dating Ian, her friend had gotten a little distant. Mandy had tried to be as comforting as possible, but Sara was still weird with her sometimes, as if Mandy had played some role in pushing the boys together. 

Whenever they talked about college, Sara acted like she didn't plan on going, but Mandy knew that wasn't the case. She wondered why her friend was being so vague about it. Had she gotten into a really good school and just didn't want to tell Mandy about it because she didn't want to make her feel stupid? Mandy asked Sara to go to Mr. Ferdinand's office with her and she reluctantly agreed. They talked to the counselor and got a literal bagful of papers and forms. Mandy thanked the man for his help, even though Ian didn't even go to their school, and Mr. Ferdinand had just laughed it off, saying it was his moral duty to help _anyone_ go to college. As they were walking out, he wished Mandy luck at QCC and Sara luck in UCLA.

The door closed behind the girls and Mandy almost dropped the bag in her hand.

“UCLA?”

The blonde looked at her with guilt written all over her face. Her green eyes met Mandy's for only a second before she looked away.

“Yeah...” Sara said, voice quiet. “My dad wants me to go there. Said it's the only way he'll pay for college... Got me in through some connections he had, despite what he called my 'miserable excuse for a transcript'.”

“Are you serious? You're moving to LA?”

Sara nodded. “At the end of summer. But hey, you're getting a replacement friend, so don't worry.”

With that, the blonde walked away, leaving Mandy standing in the hallway in absolute shock.

Sara wasn't at the bust stop when Mandy got outside, so she called Brian while riding to the diner. Thankfully, he was on a break between classes, and she was able to vent about what had just happened.

Mickey and Ian were already seated at their usual booth when Mandy got to work. She plopped into the seat beside Ian and took out the bag of material she'd gotten from school. The started putting the papers into piles. “This is the QCC application. Here are financial aid and scholarship forms. This is information on different careers.” She couldn't help herself and she suddenly hugged Ian fiercely. “I'm so fucking happy you're coming to live here!” He didn't react at first, probably due to how out of character her sudden outburst was, but after a few seconds of “recovery” time, he hugged her back.

Mickey cleared his throat, interrupting their moment.

“Now Gallagher just has to decide what he wants to do.”

“Well, in my opinion, you should try to become a cop,” Mandy said.

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” Ian asked her.

“Well, I talked to the college advisor and he said that there's this cadet program they have, where they pay you to work in the office while you're in college. You get training and a decently paying job at the same time. Here's the website.” She dug in her pocket for the post-it she'd written the link on and passed it to Ian. “And,” she butted her shoulder against his, “they have a tuition assistance thing. All you have to do is apply for the program. You shouldn't have any problems getting in. They'll love the ROTC shit and that you're in such good shape. Your grades may not have been good enough for West Point, but, according to Mr. Ferdinand, the NYPD doesn't look at that. As long as you have a degree and can pass their tests, you're golden... The best part is that they don't even care what subject you major in. Any degree will do, so you can just take some bullshit liberal arts classes...”

“Hmm... I'll look into it...” Ian said.

“Good. In the meantime, you get to have fun filling out all of this!” she slapped the college pile. “They have rolling admissions,” she added with a wink. She got up and went to the ladies' room to change into her uniform.

Mickey and Ian spent the rest of the afternoon in the booth looking over all the papers she'd brought them. Mandy watched them while she worked, and she couldn't hide her smile every time she saw her bother gently touch the side of Ian's hand or say something that made the redhead grin that stupid grin of his. Mickey had changed so much, and she knew it was partly due to Ian.

Brian's last class for the day ended at six, so she sent him a text.

[ **6:13pm Mandy:** hey bri, think u can stop by the diner n bring ur laptop?]

[ **6:14pm Brian:** sure babe. S'up?]

[ **6:16pm Mandy:** Ian needs 2 look sum stuff up]

[ **6:19pm Brian:** on my way]

She took the boys burgers once Brian got there, warning Mickey not to touch the computer with his greasy fingers. Brian left for work at a quarter to eight and Ian and Mickey left to head back to the apartment shortly afterwards. When Mandy got home a few hours later, the boys were sitting on the couch watching some old action movie on the TV, beers and cigarettes in hand.

“So?” Mandy asked.

Mickey looked up at her with a huge grin on his face. “If everything goes as planned, it looks like I'm gonna be fucking a cop in a couple of years!”

“I still need to apply, Mickey.”

“You heard what Mandy said: you're a shoe-in.”

“Hey, wasn't your sister really close with Tony Markovich? Maybe she can get him to write a recommendation or something for you for the cadet program...” Mandy suggested. She didn't know if Fiona was still on good terms with the cop, Tony, but they had been on a date that first night Ian came out to her, so it wouldn't hurt to try.

“Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll ask her when I get back,” Ian said. He suddenly looked at Mickey with worry written all over his face, only to see his boyfriend was still relaxed. “You're not upset?” he asked Mickey.

“Nah, this time I know that when you come back in three months, it will be for good,” Mickey replied. He put his arm around Ian's neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Okay, okay. Enough with this sappy shit. I'm gonna bake some dessert to celebrate the good news. Any requests?”


	32. Changes

**Chapter 32**

(Mandy POV)

Ian had moved in with them by the middle of June. His graduation had been earlier in the month than hers, so he and Mickey were sitting in the stadium, right next to Brian and Mrs. Lombardi. As Mandy sat in her assigned seat amongst the other “M”s, waiting for them to call her name, she fiddled with the hem of her black gown. Mandy couldn't believe she was graduating. 

She briefly wondered how her dad or her other brothers would have reacted. Would they have been as proud of her as Mickey was? Maybe her mom would have been, if she hadn't been drugged up. She shook away the thought. That morning, before they left the apartment, Mickey had pulled her aside and given her a very unexpected hug. They hadn't needed words; she'd gotten the message loud and clear.

Mandy looked at the crowd around her, trying to spot Sara. They'd made up weeks ago, mainly because Mandy had begged her friend to not waste the little time they had left together by being angry for something Mandy didn't even do. She spotted the blonde and whistled to get her attention. Sara turned and they grinned at each other. 

Mandy had gone to Flushing High School for two years. She wasn't exactly going to miss it, but it hadn't been as awful as her school in Chicago had been. When they finally called her name and she walked up the stairs to the stage amidst the claps and cheers of her family and friends, the first Milkovich to graduate from high school, she couldn't stop the tears as they streamed down her cheeks. She accepted her diploma and shook the principal's hand. She joined in the excitement when everyone threw their caps in the air, took silly pictures with Sara and Ian (who'd picked up an abandoned cap and joined the girls outside the stadium as an honorary graduate), and they all went to lunch at Applebee's as a treat from Mrs. Lombardi, which was actually kind of fun in a commercial sort of way. 

Travis and Matt joined them later that night when they were celebrating at the bar. They gave her a card with fifty bucks in it, telling her that they sucked at buying gifts so she could get herself something nice that she actually wanted with the cash. Mickey and Ian had gotten her concert tickets, and Brian had gone a little overboard and gotten her a silver Tiffany necklace. She liked the chunkiness of the links. Mandy wasn't the type to wear a silver heart necklace, but this one kind of suited her new style.

When she and Sara exchanged gifts, they were both at a loss for words. Mandy had gotten her friend a Zippo lighter, similar to the one she'd gotten for Mickey two Christmases ago, except this one had a New York City skyline etched onto it—something to help remember NY by. She opened the little bag from Sara, only to open a similar lighter with the words “Congrats Grad” and a picture of a graduation cap engraved on it. When she raised an eyebrow in question, Sara's response had been that they met because of a lighter, so it only seemed fitting. Both girls had burst out in laughter and tears and had hugged it out until Brian had come and shoved beers into their hands.

The rest of the summer flew by. Mandy started with a couple of summer classes at QCC and got a catering job that she could work at on nights and weekends. It paid a lot more than working at the diner did, even if she had to suffer in her tight black and white uniform and deal with rich, snobby white men at country clubs. If she was honest with herself, just serving the fancy appetizers and gourmet meals was a rush. She knew that one day, she would be in the kitchen making those very dishes. 

Mickey also stopped working a the diner, since Ian was helping pay their rent. Tom's wife had passed away in the beginning of July, so, at the Brian's urging, Mickey had taken on extra shifts at the bar so that the older bartender could be there for his kids. The redhead took Mickey's suggestion and got a job as a personal trainer at the New York Sports Club near their apartment. It was only a temporary job for the summer, until his classes and the cadet program began. 

Ian had been so pessimistic about his chances of getting accepted into the program, but Mandy loved rubbing the fact that she'd been right in his face. They'd sent him his acceptance letter only a month after he had applied. Mickey had been pissed that Ian had called _her_ first to break the great news but he got over it quickly once he realized it solidified Ian's future in NY.

They threw Sara a huge going away party at the bar around the middle of August. Mandy didn't expect to cry so fucking much. She wouldn't have gotten through the last couple of years without her friend, especially the stalking-Lauren fiasco, and knowing that she would be limited to seeing Sara during the holidays absolutely sucked ass.

Ian's birthday was at the end of August, just a few days before the fall semester began. There had been a blackout that whole weekend due to the excessive heat and everyone overdoing it with their air conditioners, so they all went to the beach to celebrate their brief work “holiday” and their friend's eighteenth birthday.

Classes started and Mandy found it strange how different the regular semester was compared to the summer classes she had taken. She made some casual friends with the girls who had most of the same classes as her. She and Ian would have lunch together in the quad if the weather was nice, or meet up with their new friends in the cafeteria on the rainy days. 

Ian decided not to go back to Chicago for Thanksgiving because he had a few late midterms and didn't want to stress out about traveling while he still had so much studying to do. He confided in Mandy, telling her how much he missed his family, knowing that if he told Mickey, the older boy would feel guilty and sulk about it for God knew how long. Mandy suggested inviting them to come and visit NY for Christmas, so Ian proposed the idea to Fiona. He was anxious the whole week that followed, waiting for her answer, but once he got the call confirming it (Fiona's boyfriend/boss had agreed to join them _and_ pay for their flight and hotel room), Ian was on a kick to make the apartment as festive as possible. Of course Mandy didn't mind. She and Mrs. Lombardi sat with Ian and planned out the whole Christmas feast, and she spent hours with him decorating.

The weather had changed from wet and rainy to freezing in just a matter of a few days. It was a week before the Gallaghers' impending visit and one of her classes had already ended for the semester, so Mandy returned to the apartment earlier than usual. The first thing she noticed when she made her way up the icy steps was that the windows were open downstairs, despite the cold. Maybe Mrs. Lombardi was cooking something and wanted to air out her apartment, but Mandy didn't smell anything besides the crisp smell of winter. The next thing she saw was Charlie sitting just outside the door, but she didn't really think much of it because sometimes Mrs. Lombardi would forget to close her door and he would slip out. Shaking her head, she picked up the fat, ginger cat and pushed the door open with her heel to let him in.

The muffled cry she heard was all the warning she got. Strong arms grabbed her from the side of the entryway. She was pushed deeper into Mrs. Lombardi's apartment, where she saw the poor old lady tied to one of her dining room chairs. Mrs. Lombardi was screaming with tears streaming down her face, and Mandy looked at her just long enough to see her bloody nose, the bruises already formed along the side of her face and a strip of crudely torn duct tape on her mouth.

The intruder was pushing Mandy further into the living room, but Mandy knew that she couldn't let that happen. Whoever he was, he'd clearly had time to explore his surroundings and get ready for anyone else who happened to show up. He'd been waiting for her behind the door, afterall. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and seeping from his pores, as he was now pinning her arms to her body from behind. Mandy turned her wrists around so that they faced away from her. In the same motion, she pushed her arms away from her body and bent forward, shoving her ass out. The quick stretching movement effectively loosened her attacker's hold on her. Without a second of hesitation, Mandy thrust her elbow behind her and connected with his face. She heard the crunch of bone and felt a warm wetness spread along her sleeve. She hoped she'd broken his nose.

“Shit!”

Mandy heard the outcry as she ran towards the door and scrambled up the stairs to her own apartment. She made it to the top landing and dumped the contents of her bag out onto the floor, fumbling for her keys. She saw the shiny silver bundle and grabbed it. All she could think of was that she needed to get away from the guy and call the cops for help. She jammed the key into the doorknob and twisted. The door flew open and Mandy fell into the apartment. She kicked the door shut behind her and pulled out her cell phone. She held down the 9 button, and 911 began dialing.

Before anyone could answer, the door was kicked open. Wood splinters flew towards her face and Mandy had to shield her eyes with her free hand. One sharp piece hit her cheek and she felt the gash begin to bleed.

“Give me that, you little fucking slut!”

The cell phone was torn from her hand and crushed under the man's shoe. Mandy looked up in horror at the form of Terry Milkovich towering above her. His white-knuckled fist arching down was the last thing she saw before she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the few short chapters. Only a couple left...


	33. Intruder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is very violent and touches on some topics that might trigger certain people. I'm sorry to write it but that's just how this story goes... If you are easily bothered by it, don't read it.

**Chapter 33**

(Mickey POV)

Mickey was having a pretty good day at the bar. A bachelorette party had come in around 9pm, so he'd been getting generous tips from the drunk women all night. He'd been trying not to text Ian too much, since he knew his boyfriend was in the school library studying for his finals. He'd never expected Ian to be such a nerd when it came to school, but the redhead was really making an effort to do well. He'd even passed up the chance to go back home for Thanksgiving in favor of studying. With finals coming up and Ian putting in so much time at the precinct, Mickey knew Ian was looking forward to a nice, long winter break in January.

When the fourth drunk girl of the night asked him for his number, Mickey gave in and sent Ian a message.

[ **11:25pm Mickey:** hey firecrotch, u still studyin?]

[ **11:29pm Firecrotch:** ya. library closes at midnight.]

[ **11:29pm Mickey:** stop by the bar]

[ **11:30pm Mickey:** need the distraction.]

[ **11:29pm Firecrotch:** k babe.]

Mickey cringed at the last message; he hated it when Ian called him that. Mickey kept himself busy with wiping the bartop and drying some glasses and Ian walked into Sullivan's before he even knew the time had passed.

“Hey,” the redhead said as he sat at a stool at the bar and loosened his scarf.

“Is it snowing out?” Mickey asked, noticing how wet his boyfriend's jacket was.

“Yeah. It's been snowing all night. It actually started right after I went into the library the last time. I got dinner at that Chinese place across the street from the campus around 6 when my class ended. I'm exhausted... I can't wait to get into bed.”

“Don't worry, last call's in an hour. If you help me clean up, we might actually get back to the apartment by 2.”

Mickey saw Ian's mischievous smile and knew exactly what his boyfriend was thinking. They cleaned the bar together; Mickey picked up all the chairs and put them seat-down on the tables while Ian followed closely behind, mopping up. Mickey easily completed the closing ritual he'd become all too familiar with. The glasses were washed and dried and put in their places, the tables were wiped, the money from the register was counted and put in the safe. Everything was set, so Mickey sent a message to Brian telling him he was locking up.

The boys walked to the apartment briskly, through the inch or two of snow that had accumulated. It was that fluffy, soft snow that looked more like glitter than anything else. When Mickey and Mandy were little, he used to call it “gay snow.” At least it would be easy to shovel away. He kicked some aside with his boots as they climbed the few steps to the front door. Mickey was shivering as he reached for the keys in his pocket. He wished he'd worn some gloves or the scarf Ian had given him for Christmas two years ago.

“It's f-fucking freezing out!” Ian said, teeth chattering. Mickey spun and pushed the redhead against the front door, pressing his lips against Ian's. He softly licked at them, requesting entry, and they parted obligingly. Mickey slipped his tongue into Ian's opened mouth and reveled at the small moan that escaped the younger boy's lips. Ian's warm breath mingled with his and Mickey could taste the beers he'd drank that night at the bar. Their kiss deepened and Ian pressed his hips towards Mickey, rubbing their crotches against each other. Ian was so fucking hard... Mickey had to pull away before things got too serious.

“Still feeling cold, Firecrotch?” he asked with a smirk.

Ian huffed out a laugh. “Just open the fucking door so we can continue this upstairs...”

Mickey raised an eyebrow suggestively but did as he was told. They walked up the dark staircase. About halfway up, Ian pinched Mickey's ass and the older boy turned to face his lover, laughing quietly so as not to wake anyone up. “Hey, hey... keep your hands to yourself!”

“Are you sure that's what you want?” Ian teased and stepped up to Mickey's level. He put his hands around Mickey's waist and pulled him close for another kiss.

The light in their apartment was turned on and Mickey looked up to see a gun pointed at him through the broken door.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Terry shouted.

Mickey was horrified to see his father standing in their apartment. Ian's arms quickly dropped from where they'd been around Mickey, but it didn't matter. Terry had undoubtedly seen.

Terry reached forward, grabbed Ian by the throat and pulled him into the apartment through the broken door. 

“Dad-” Mickey started, “dad, hold on... hold on...” He didn't really know what he wanted to say. He could explain? That it wasn't what it looked like? None of that was going to work. 

“Get the fuck inside. _Now,_ ” he said, now aiming the gun at Ian.

Mickey put his hands up and followed them. Terry back up all the way down the hall to the kitchen, and Mickey was only a few steps behind them. Once inside, he let go of Ian and punched him in the face. The redhead fell back onto the futon.

“You sick little piece of shit!” Terry shouted, getting on top of Ian and punching the boy repeatedly.

“Get the fuck off him!” Mickey shouted. He jumped onto his father's back and tried to get the bigger man to relent. If anything, it would distract his father enough to let Gallagher get away.

Terry got up and walked backwards into the wall with Mickey still clinging to his back. Once they connected, the wind was knocked out of Mickey and he lost his grip, falling to the floor. Terry was on him in less than a heartbeat, pounding away. 

“No son of mine is gonna be a God damned AIDS monkey!” he screamed at Mickey while beating him to the edge of unconsciousness. The years of abuse as a kid should have taught him that he wouldn't be able to overpower his father. 

“Leave us alone!” Mickey screamed, and with all the strength he had remaining, he kicked Terry in the face. The man started laughing, aimed the gun at Mickey and shot him. With his vision dimming, Mickey saw Ian try to make a run for it.

“Sit your ass down, you fucking ass digger!” Terry said, pointing the gun at Ian again. Ian stopped running. Terry turned back to Mickey and hit him in the head with the butt of the gun. Mickey's world fell into darkness. 

~

Mickey came to when he heard a shrill scream. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he glanced out the window and noted it was still dark outside. He blinked a few times to clear the blurriness in his vision. He felt weak and drained of energy. He looked around and saw Ian sitting on the couch, hands tied in his lap and mouth covered with duct tape. The redhead's face was a bloody mess. One of his eyes was swollen shut. He hadn't noticed Mickey yet; his attention was to the bathroom, where the scream had come from.

“Tell me where the money is, you dirty whore! Your son stole my guns and my car and I want the money. Where the fuck is it?” Mickey heard the sharp slapping sound as Terry struck Mandy, followed by a hopeless wail.

“Dad, it's me, Mandy!” He heard another slap and the subsequent outcry from his sister. “I'm not mom!” she shouted. “I'm not her...” Mandy's voice trailed off into tears. 

There was a thudas Terry tossed Mandy to the floor before he rushed out to the kitchen. He opened the cabinets wildly until he found their alcohol. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he opened it and downed what was probably four fingers' worth in a single shot. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before taking another ridiculous swig. He walked back towards the bathroom, bottle in hand. Mickey could see the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. When he passed Ian, Terry punched the boy in the gut and spat on him before re-entering the room and pulling the door shut. Mandy's cries got louder when he was fully inside the small room and out of Mickey's view.

When had Terry gotten out of prison? How had he found them? How long had Mandy been at his mercy?

Despite the grogginess, Mickey tried to move. He had to do something... but he realized all too soon that he couldn't get up. There was a sharp pain in his leg and when he looked down he was horrified by what he saw: blood had soaked through his pants and pooled around him on the carpet. He'd forgotten that Terry had shot him before pistol-whipping him. Mickey grabbed at the wound in his right thigh and immediately regretted it. Okay, moving was _not_ an option. He patted his pockets in search for his cell phone but didn't find it; Terry must have searched him for weapons and taken it.

“No... dad, please... stop it... dad... not again...”

“Shut the fuck up, Marisa.” Mickey heard the whiskey sloshing around in the bottle as Terry undoubtedly took another drink. “You think they can just steal from me and get away with it? And you think you can protect them? No, you never could and you never will. You'll always be a junkie and a whore.” There was the sound of fabric tearing and Mandy cried out again.

Mickey panicked. He needed to stop his dad. He needed to save Mandy. He didn't want to think about the horrible things that monster was doing to his sister.

“Gallagher,” Mickey whispered, trying to get Ian's attention. Ian's gaze was transfixed on bathroom door, paralyzed by what he knew was happening on the other side. Mickey could see a tear slide down Ian's face, mixing with the blood on its way down.

Mickey hissed “Gallagher!” again and this time Ian's head snapped towards Mickey. The older boy could see the sudden relief that flooded his boyfriend's expression as his eye (singular) widened in shock. Mickey realized with horror that Ian had probably thought Mickey was dead.

“I'm fine... I will be fine...” Mickey said under his breath, hoping to comfort the redhead (and possibly reassure himself in the process). “Can you get up?” he asked.

Ian nodded. “Good. Okay, I've got a .22 under the mattress in our room. Bottom left corner. Think you can get to it?” Ian nodded again. 

There was another cry from the bathroom. Both of them turned towards the door that was now just ajar. Mickey pushed down the thoughts of what a failure he was at not being able to do anything to protect his sister. Mickey gestured for Ian to get out while Terry was still distracted.

Ian slid off the futon and awkwardly crawled out of the room, the task made more difficult by his hands being restrained. 

Mickey watched him go but quickly returned his attention to the bathroom door. If Terry came out and saw Ian missing, Mickey would need to figure out some sort of distraction. He looked around the room frantically but didn't see anything that would be of use. _This is just fucking great_ , he thought. At least he'd kept one of the guns he hadn't sold from Chicago in his room. That was something.

A minute later, Ian returned with the revolver in hand. The tape from his hands and mouth was gone. He crouched next to Mickey. “Are you okay?” he whispered. 

Mickey leaned his head against Ian's and sighed. “Forget about me. Help Mandy.”

Ian nodded. He stood up straight and held the gun up. Mickey decided it would be better to get his dad to come out of the small room rather than have Ian go in.

“Dad!” he called, coughing with the effort of raising his voice. He was so weak; the blood loss was getting to him. “Dad, I'll tell you where the money is!”

The door swung open and Terry appeared on the other side. Mickey saw him finish pulling up his zipper and grimaced. 

“Do it, Gallagher,” Mickey said, voice dripping with disgust and hatred.

Ian let out a single shot. It went straight through Terry's forehead.

Ian dropped the gun on the floor. “Mandy?”

Mandy peeked through the door at the scene in the kitchen. Seeing Terry's body on the floor, she crawled out of the bathroom, sobbing, and fell into Mickey's arms. It was an awkward position but Mickey turned as best as he could to hold her without moving his injured leg. 

Ian carefully stepped over Terry's body and grabbed a towel from inside the bathroom. He knelt down and wrapped Mandy's half naked body in it. 

“You guys stay here. I'm gonna go call for help.” He leaned down and kissed Mickey on the top of his head before he left. As if Mickey _could_ go anywhere.

Mickey ran his fingers through his sister's hair. “I'm so sorry...” he muttered, over and over. He didn't want to look at her—didn't want to see the damage Terry had done. He just kept telling her it was over now. He couldn't hurt them anymore.

Ian came back and slid down the wall to sit beside Mickey. They didn't say anything to each other. Within a few minutes, the sirens could be heard getting closer. The EMTs arrived before the police. They tried to help Mickey first but he insisted they take care of Mandy before him. He could barely feel the pain from the bullet in his thigh. Maybe he _had_ lost too much blood.

“Gallagher, go with her...” Mickey said weakly. Ian looked at Mickey with worry on his face. He obviously didn't want to be away from him any longer than necessary. “Please... I trust you to keep her safe.” Ian nodded, gave Mickey's hand a tight squeeze and got up to follow the men as they carried Mandy down the stairs in a stretcher.

Mickey leaned his head back against the wall and tried not to stare at his father's body on the floor in front of him. The next set of EMTs were only a minute or so behind. Ian must have told them to send two ambulances. Mickey couldn't have been more proud of his future cop-to-be. They put Mickey on a stretcher too, carried him out of the apartment and loaded him into the ambulance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left...


	34. It's Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: this chapter is also a little harsh. Read with caution.

**Chapter 34**

(Mandy POV)

Mandy was a fucking mess. She couldn't stop the sobs that were racking through her body. Honestly, if Ian wasn't riding with her in the ambulance, squeezing her hand and brushing the hair away from her face in an attempt to comfort her, she wouldn't have been able to breathe. 

“Don't worry, Mands. It's over. He's gone. It's over...”

He couldn't understand... It would never be over. Terry might be dead, but what he'd done to her would never end. It wouldn't go away. She shut her eyes as another sob tore out of her.

“You need to call Brian,” she said to him in her raspy voice. She'd spent hours screaming for help and her throat burned with each syllable. “Someone needs to take care of Dexter,” she explained. The dog had been crying all afternoon and through the night from inside his crate. She thanked God that Terry had been too distracted to care about the noise, otherwise he might have just killed him to shut him up.

Ian looked at Mandy helplessly until the EMT passed him his cell phone. Ian thanked him and made the call.

They got to the emergency room in just a few minutes. The EMTs rushed her out and Ian stayed right beside the gurney, following them and not letting Mandy out of his grasp. Only one nurse protested him being there, but the angry snarl he sent her way got her to back off immediately.

An ER doctor was there a minute later, examining her and asking her questions about her injuries. Mandy closed her eyes again and just let the nurses and doctors work to get her cleaned up. They took her for an x-ray and CT scan within 15 minutes of admitting her into the hospital. Apparently she had internal bleeding, two broken ribs, a bruised sternum and a cracked tibia. An orthopedic surgeon was called to set her breaks and put a cast on her arm. Once she was stable, they took her to a private room and let Ian see her again.

“Brian went to the apartment. The cops were still there, but they let him take Dexter to his house. He's gonna give him a bath and feed him before he comes here.” Mandy cringed. Of course Dex would need a bath... the poor dog had been stuck in his crate since morning. Mandy could just imagine the mess he would have made.

Ian was asked to wait outside while one of the residents administered a rape kit. The resident gave her the morning after pill and told her he was ordering her a psych consult, which was standard procedure in her case.

A nurse eventually came in and explained to Mandy that the police had some questions and needed to get a statement from her about what had happened. Two officers stood beside her bed and they wanted the story from her point of view, start to finish. She tried to answer them as best as she could, even about the parts she didn't want to think about. Mandy got up to when she had blacked out... but it got a lot harder to recount after that—not because she didn't remember, but because of the opposite—she just wanted to forget.

~

_Before she'd opened her eyes, her nostrils had burned from the smell of alcohol and blood. As she'd slowly started to return to consciousness, she'd tried to speak but her mouth had been covered in duct tape. Her hands had been taped behind her, and her shirt had been torn open, bra lifted to hang uselessly around her neck as Terry groped her with his dirty hands and sucked on her tits. She'd been so dazed and mentally out of it that, at first, she hadn't realized he was calling her by her mother's name, Marisa. He'd gone on and on about missing her, hating the little brats she'd left him with, loving the feeling of her soft skin and perfect body..._

_Everything had become clear when he'd torn her panties off and shoved his dick in her, just like he had done years ago, before they left Chicago. She was powerless to stop it; she had no way to fight back. All she could do was scream into the tape on her mouth, hoping that someone would hear and come to help. No one did._

~

“So what happened when you woke up?” the shorter cop asked. He held his pen at the ready and had been writing everything she'd said into his little notepad.

“When I came to, I was being shoved back onto the couch... in the kitchen, by the TV area... I was tied up, same as Mrs. Lombardi. I realized he was... _raping_ me...” She stopped and took a breath. “He was drunk... he thought I was my mom. He called me Marisa. That's her name.” Mandy stopped and looked out the window of her hospital room. It was still dark out. The night wasn't anywhere near being over. She sighed.

“He didn't stop. In between rounds, he beat me and tried to get me to tell him where Mickey was. He wanted money. Each time he tore the tape off my mouth, I told him that I was Mandy, not Marisa. I kept begging him to stop, but it only made him angrier. He kept drinking and becoming more violent—rougher each time he raped me.” She was sobbing again. The taller, skinny officer made a move as if he was going to comfort her, but then thought better of it, pulling his hand back to rest on his holster. “It went on all night, until we heard the sound of Ian and Mickey at the door downstairs. He got his gun and he went to the stairs to wait for them.”

Ian had already told the cops what happened after Terry forced them into the apartment. Mandy's version of the story matched up. The officers thanked her for her time and patience and told her a homicide detective would be back to talk to her again if he had any additional questions. She nodded numbly. When they left, Ian was allowed back into her room.

“Ian, how's Mickey?”

“They still have him in surgery. The doctor said the bullet didn't pass all the way through his leg, so their first priority is to get it out.”

“Did you tell Brian where we are?”

“Yeah, he's on his way.”

Ian sat by Mandy in the chair beside her bed, waiting patiently with her for Brian to arrive. He looked like shit but she could tell he was making an effort to remain calm around her; he didn't show the panic or worry he undoubtedly was feeling about Mickey. The side of his face was swollen and yellow, from his jaw to his temple. His eye was even more swollen that it had been when they'd been in the ambulance. The nurses had attended to his broken nose and Mandy could see he had a few stitches on his temple. 

It turned out the only reason they were allowing Ian to stay with Mandy in the first place was because his injuries weren't too serious. Ian was lucky to not have any broken bones; Mandy had seen the way Terry had beaten him down.

“Mands?” Ian asked, tentatively. Her eyes were closed but there was no way she was going to be able to sleep. She opened them and looked at the redhead questioningly.

Taking that as a cue, he moved the chair closer to her and held her hand. “Before Brian gets here, there's something else I have to tell you.” Ian bit his lip. 

What else could there be? She waited until he started talking again. “Mrs. Lombardi...” He blinked and tears fell from his eyes. “Mandy, she was left tied to the chair all day and all night... Your dad opened all the windows and just left her there, in the cold. She... she didn't make it. She was already gone when I got downstairs to call for help...”

Mandy was in shock. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that Ian was still talking, but she wasn't hearing anything. She couldn't make out any of his words. She was just staring ahead and nothing in particular. Mrs. Lombardi was dead. Her father had killed Mrs. Lombardi. Her father had killed the only adult that had ever cared about her and Mickey. The woman had been kind to them from day one and had asked for nothing in return. And now she was gone. Because of Terry. Because of her father. Because of a rapist. She couldn't cry. She couldn't move. She was numb.

She didn't snap out of it until the nurse walked in to check on her. She opened the window blinds and the light shined into Mandy's room. She looked at the chair beside her and saw Brian sleeping in it. Where was Ian?

“Brian?”

He shot up. “Mandy! Hey baby, I'm here.” He squeezed her fingers, being careful not to move her had as it was in a cast and sling.

“Where did Ian go?”

Brian's face contorted to show how worried he was. “Mickey came out of surgery but he hasn't woken up yet. He lost a lot of blood, babes... Ian's sitting with him, waiting. That's all we can do now. How are you feeling, hun?”

“Fine. I'm fine.” She wasn't fine. She was never going to be fine. How could anyone be fine after something like that? She'd never be able to talk about the events of that day—not to Brian, and not to anyone else—but she also knew that Brian would never press her for information or bring it up on his own. She took comfort in knowing that her boyfriend respected her enough to let her be when she needed space. So when she told him she was fine, he smiled and accepted it.

Mandy was released the following day, but she wouldn't leave the hospital. She insisted on waiting with Ian in Mickey's room. 

She and Brian were getting back from the cafeteria one night when they heard Ian talking to Mickey. Mandy stopped just outside the door and leaned against the wall.

“It's all my fault, Mick. All of it. I'm so fucking sorry. I called Fiona to tell her to postpone the trip to NY. I told her what happened and she said that Kev told her that Frank was in the Alibi the night Terry was released. He was drunk, as usual, and complaining that all of my brothers and sisters were coming to NY to visit me, and didn't even think to invite their dad. That's how Terry found out where we were. Frank told him I was living with you and Mandy. It's all my fault... I'm so sorry... Please wake up... Please...”

Mandy pushed Brian back and they went to get coffee. She didn't want to interrupt Ian while he was so upset. A few days later, when Brian was at his house to walk and feed Dexter, Mandy told Ian she'd heard what he'd said to Mickey about Frank. Mandy told him that he needed to stop blaming himself, because the only person to blame was Terry. She told Ian that the only thing she felt towards him was gratitude for saving her life. He had shot her tormentor. He had rescued her.

Mickey woke up a week later. Ian and Mandy filled in the gaps of what had happened to him, both before and after being brought to the hospital. His gunshot wound was already healing well, and he was getting stronger each day. The morning of his discharge, a stranger came to the hospital and talked to them.

The man was dressed in an expensive, navy, tailored suit. He was old—probably in his seventies—and he said he was Mrs. Lombardi's attorney. Apparently she had planned and paid for her funeral already. The arrangements were made for the following day. He told them that they needed to go to his office for the reading of her last will and testament immediately following the burial. Mickey and Mandy went, not because they expected to get something, but because they had grown to love Mrs. Lombardi over the past couple of years, just and she had loved them. They owed it to her to hear her last wishes.

As it turned out, since Mrs. Lombardi had no living relatives, she had left the house to the Milkoviches—50% to Mickey and 50% to Mandy. The mortgage was all paid up, and the only condition was that they take care of Charlie the cat.

Mandy and Mickey talked about selling the house and using the money to get a smaller space, but Mickey said Mrs. Lombardi would have wanted them to be happy and keep her home full of life. Mickey suggested that Mandy and Brian move in downstairs and he and Ian would take the upstairs apartment. Mandy said she would only do it if they changed the house to be one complete house instead of the two separate apartments. Mickey  agreed and they signed the lawyer's paperwork.

They walked out of the office and Mickey immediately gave Ian a hug. He excitedly told his boyfriend what had happened. “We have a lot of work to do to get the house ready, especially if you want your family to come and visit soon.”

“Good thing we didn't change the upstairs door yet... looks like we're not gonna need it anymore!”

Mandy laughed and shoved Ian's shoulder with her good arm. The movement made her chest throb through the bandages that were still tightly biding her ribs. “Ouch...”

“I think we need to get you back into bed, Mands, before you really hurt yourself,” Ian teased. He grinned and put an arm over each Milkovich's shoulder. 

“Yeah, let's go home.” Mickey said, also smiling.

They began walking out of the building.

It was the first time they'd called it home.

 

_The End_

_(or Beginning, depending on how you look at things)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels weird posting this last chapter, because I've been writing this story for four months now. I wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to read it. I hoped you enjoyed it.


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